In the Bleak Midwinter
by SerialStoryLover
Summary: Massive snow storms brought NYC to a standstill just after Christmas in 2010. The News Night team are desperate to get home before it gets worse. It's a Will/Mac fic obviously ...need I say anymore? :p
1. No Arguments

_**So I'm afraid I'm experiencing a bit of writer's block on my other fic – I think I've jinxed myself by giving specific times for when I'd update it. The God of procrastination is laughing at me somewhere… For this I do feel a little guilty - many apologies!**_

_**Anyway, to keep you going I offer this. Sprouted from my other "snow" fic, I thought I'd take advantage of the big snow storms that headed to NYC that Christmas too and indulge in all the Will/Mac cuteness such an emergency might bring.**_

* * *

**In the Bleak Midwinter…**

Mac looked worriedly from her watch to the twitter feed on her Blackberry, willing the next ten minutes to go faster.

They were fifty minutes into the broadcast and the blizzard outside was reaching up to 40 mph according to twitter, and 10 inches already lay thick on the ground – only half of what was expected by the morning. It wasn't likely that they'd make it in tomorrow so she was desperate to wrap up and send her team home. The subway was half shut down and the traffic had come to an effective standstill – it would be 9 o'clock by the time they'd finished and by the looks of it they were all facing a hard walk home. Please let time speed up, please!

It was the day after Christmas – she was surprised they'd had this much news to cover. Actually, the main story they were actually on was the same snowstorm that she was now fretting over. How ironic it would be if they ended up stranded at ACN by the snow due to the fact that they were here _reporting_ the snow!? No, don't think about that. Someone up there might hear you…

The only up-side to this arrangement that she could see was only the essential staff were here. At least she didn't have a flock of them to deal with.

She could see Will starting to wind down the final segment, and she turned to the team in the control room.

"Alright guys, as soon as he's done, shut everything down and get out of here. I want to see you heading out the door in fifteen minutes. Stay safe getting home! Everyone send me an email, text, whatever when you get there, I want everyone accounted for. Tomorrow's off." She said all this hurriedly, wanting to get through to the control room and relay this message to the staffers. The technicians all looked gratefully at her, voicing their understanding.

She checked Will was still on point, and then removed her headset and rattled out of the door.

"Right!" She grabbed the small group's attention. Most were already packing up bags and putting on coats and hats. "How's everyone getting home? We agreed to go in groups, right?"

"Sloane, Neal and I are all heading in the same direction – we're about ten blocks apart." Jim nodded swiftly. She nodded slightly, nibbling at her finger as she turned to the others, stressed.

"I'm walking Tess and Tamara back and then I'll head to my brother's place. He's closer." Gary explained, the three of them huddled together already.

"Kendra?" Mac asked.

"Martin and I live on the same street so I'm heading with him."

"Great. You two are okay?" She raised an eyebrow at Don and Maggie.

"Ten O'clock is cancelled so we're ready to go."

"And everyone's got somewhere to go in Manhattan? No one has to head off to Brooklyn or Coney Island, or Queens, or…anywhere that involves crossing the Hudson?" They all shook their heads and she filled with a slight relief. "Okay, everyone let me know when you're safe, I want a head count. The internet's starting fill with stories about ambulances trapped and stuff, so if you're in trouble let someone know, it's nasty out there."

"How are _you_ getting home?" Will asked from behind her, coming out from the studio.

"At the moment my subway line is still open – I'm the other end of the island – so I should be able to get a train before they close it." Will frowned at her.

"There's a guy on twitter saying he's been stuck on a train, freezing, for four and half hours Mac."

"I'm not walking." She said flatly. As the control room guys started to spill into the bullpen, she turned back to the others. "Alright everyone, get out of here. Thank you so much for getting in here and sticking around. Remember! Let me know when you're in. Safe journey!"

En masse there was an exodus for the lifts. Dreading her own journey home, she watched them all leave knowing that she shouldn't put off her own departure; but there was not a single cell of her that wanted to willingly step foot outside in New York City. A thought occurred to her.

"How are _you_ getting home?" She turned to Will, only to find him staring at her very pensively. It unnerved her slightly, "What?"

"I think you mean how are _we_ getting there?" It took her a moment to catch up.

"Wait –"

"You're not going to the other end of Manhattan on your own in _this_Mac," He said firmly. "You've just given them a big lecture about staying together and calling if they get into trouble, so you can forget the subway. You won't be much use to anyone stuck, watching the frost bite form, in some dingy subway car. You're coming home with me. I live seven blocks away."

She opened her mouth to argue but he had already turned away and was heading towards his office.

"Get your stuff," he called over his shoulder, "We should leave before it gets worse."

* * *

_**Next up, hats, hand-holding, rude taxi drivers, and hot cocoa. I'm shameless and I make no apology…I should really just make that my official disclaimer, huh? :p**_


	2. Bobble Hat Helmets

**_In the Bleak Midwinter... Ch. 2_**

**_I have decided to dedicate this story to all you lovely reviewers! You're kindness, encouragement and equally great enthusiasm for this show just puts a massive (slightly weirdo) grin on my face every time I read what you say, so thank you so much all of you! :D xx_**

**_Also should have said: this is set just before "I'll try to fix you"._**

* * *

They reached the elevator in silence.

Although Mac knew that Will had made the offer with no ulterior motives or intentions, knew that he was just looking out for her, she still couldn't help but think about the last time they had been alone in an apartment: the night she had confessed. And as her mind wandered back to that night, other memories crawled, unbidden, out of its shadows as she one more contemplated the life she had thrown away that night.

Judging by the fact that Will had made no attempt at conversation either, Mac suspected he was having similar thoughts. Shooting a glance out of the corner of her eye she could see that his jaw was firmly set and his gaze was directly ahead of him. She bit her lip, thoughtfully.

She had known what the outcome of confessing would be. She had known that Will had been too traumatised by his father to trust someone a second time after they had betrayed him once. It had broken her heart to do it; and she was worried that Will didn't fully understand that part – not that she expected any sympathy from him; it was her own fucking fault.

Yet slowly over the years, she had begun to heal – though she still bore the scars. She knew she'd never be able to forgive herself, even if by some miracle Will did. But she had made enough of a recovery to feel able to return to his side as his EP. What she had not been expecting was to have that wound torn open again; but that was what their post-email confrontation had done.

Will had said that if she had not come clean about the affair then they could have just carried on as normal. Well, he would have done, anyway – none the wiser. But deep down, she knew that she would never have been able to live with it, even if he thought it was selfish of her – it was just wrong.

The simple knowledge that there had been another option – that there _had_ been a way in which their relationship could have survived (even if it was poisoned) was so painful for Mac. And that she knew she had taken the opposite path, albeit unknowingly, just made it even worse. The lift pinged to alert them that they had reached the ground floor.

Still mired in her rather depressing thoughts, Mac tried to focus on the sheer mass of snow fall that was now clearly visible through the glass walls of the lobby. They both stopped for a moment to take in their enemy. It was going to be a tough fight.

A soldier reaching for hear armour, Mac delved into her bag and pulled out an indigo, patterned bobble hat and pulled it down firmly around her ears before pulling out a set of matching gloves. She was ready for this beast.

And then a snort of laughter came from just behind her left shoulder. She turned around to find out what Will was laughing at – it was adorable. He was leaning back against the reception desk, a warm mirth in his eyes as he looked between her new head garment, her gloves and then down to the willies on her feet. She glared at him and he tried to recover himself, though he was getting nowhere near managing to hide the massive grin from his face.

"Yes?" She asked pointedly, nose in the air, arms folding across her chest.

Sniggering, he tried to speak normally. "You have a scarf to go with that?"

Again she glared at him, standing still for almost a minute before begrudgingly, though trying to act as though she couldn't care less what he thought, reaching down and pulling a matching scarf from her bag. He burst into laughter once more, and she turned away nonchalantly wrapping the offending scarf around her neck but secretly loving the sound of him being happy.

She decided that she would just stand and wait, still turned away from him, until he had composed himself (as she was clearly the more dignified of the two of them…except…well, the bobble hat didn't count). But she felt his hand on her elbow as he, still chortling, led them to the doors, waving at the poor, miserable looking security guard as they left.

"It's cold you know." She defended.

"Really?" Will asked, grinning. "I'd never have guessed."

She pouted her lips, trying to look hurt, but he only shook his head, still smiling at her.

Pulling on his "man gloves" – which you can't actually feel anything through because they're so bloody thick – they made their way through the exit.

* * *

_**Okay so I got a bit ahead of myself….but I promise the hand-holding, crazy taxi drivers and hot cocoa are coming soon! Within the next hour or two! Okay…maybe not the cocoa…but definitely the first two.**_

_**This was also a bit more angsty than I had intended. Oh well. I love them still :)**_


	3. The Crazies of New York

**_In the Bleak Midwinter… Ch. 3_**

**_Really don't like this chapter. The image of the bobble hat just about makes up for it though._**

**_Hope some people do manage to like it._**

* * *

Although it was the day after Christmas – and so therefore one would really expect a city like New York to be quiet – it was unprecedented, almost eerie to see a complete lack of moving traffic…you wouldn't even have heard the little traffic that was on the go due to the deep blanket of snow. Not that you could anyway due to the fierce wind that blasted into Mac as soon as she stepped out. Caught unawares she fell sideways into Will, who grabbed her shoulders to steady her, face turned in the other direction as he took a flurry of snow to the face.

"Please tell me we're not walking that way!?" Mac yelled at him over the wind. He grimaced, looking apologetic, and tightened his grip on her shoulder, steering her into the wind. She groaned to herself as she narrowed her eyes to slits so as to protect them from the white onslaught. Relying on Will's guiding arm they started to make their way bracingly down the empty street. She thought that in the distance she could maybe spot the retreating backs of Sloan, Neal and Jim, but all she could see were silhouettes in the streetlight, and then the group turned a corner.

Huddling as far into the sidewalk as they could, hoping feebly for some small protection from the wind, they made it to the first set of traffic lights. Not that they really needed the green cross code here. Every few hundred metres there was a stranded car or taxi just sitting in the middle of the snow. Some looked empty, others held one or two passengers who had the heating running full blast, trying to keep warm.

When they had finally made their way to the end of the next block they spotted a figure next to one such car; and he seemed to be kicking it furiously, yelling something they couldn't hear over the blizzard. Will and Mac looked at each other: to stop or not to stop? Warily Mac leaned into him to make her point. They headed out into the wider street, but had gone no more than three paces before Mac stumbled and fell. Will caught her by the wrists, and grabbed her hand to pull her back up.

She looked sheepishly up at him, dignity in tatters…again; and she could tell that hiding behind his jacket, which he had zipped up to cover his mouth, was a massive grin. He didn't let go of her hand, however, as they struggled over to the distressed man. She supressed a smile of her own (not that she could actually feel his hands because of those damn mammoth gloves) and leaned into him for a better centre of gravity against the storm. That was her excuse and she was sticking to it.

Will waved at the guy. "Hey!" he shouted over the gusts. The man spun around. "Are you alright?"

The guy stood frozen for a moment, before walking over to them almost stroppily. Mac suddenly noticed something, tugging on Will's jacket. He looked down at her questioningly, and she had to lean into his ear so that the man closing in on them wouldn't hear her.

"There's a guy in the driver's seat already?"

"What?"

She tisked at him. "THERE'S A GUY ALREADY IN THE DRIVER'S SEAT." Will squinted to look, and sure enough there was already an occupant. What the hell had they walked in on? He tightened his grip on Mac's hand, pulling her behind him slightly as the man came charging over.

"What's wrong with me?" The guy shouted at them hysterically in a strong New York accent. Will stood up straighter, "What's wrong pal is that this grade A ASSHOLE – otherwise known as my brother-in-law – came up to my cab –" he pointed some distance up the street where they could see another taxi with its lights up, "to borrow a lighter – two hours ago, right!? – and now has locked himself in his own cab and won't give it back! Selfish bastard! I mean, do you know how long we're expected to be stuck here? Huh? And I can't leave my cab – it's my living, you get me? So –"

Will, sensing that this was a bad thing to have gone into, dug into his pocket and handed the guy a lighter, now desperate to get away from this lunatic. The man looked at it as though it was a piece of gold, then gasped at Will.

"Thank you so much my friend! You are a saint, you really are! My name is Joe Stephenson and if you ever need a cab, I promise you I will offer a –" Will nodded, and waved, quickly turning him and Mac around and heading back to the sidewalk. When they reached it, they turned back to find Joe making snow balls to hurl at his brother-in-law's windscreen in between doing his shoddy idea of a victory dance, and giving the man the finger.

The looked at each other, and after a moment burst out laughing. Will, keeping a hold of Mac's hand (only to make sure he would help her up if she fell again, of course) tucked her into his side, and they continued their way up the remaining blocks.

They only saw three other people as they trekked the remainder of the way, but like them these people were eager to get off the street…not lunatic taxi drivers.

At last they reached Will's building. As the concierge inside opened it for them, Mac looked back down the street and she let out a breath, refusing to believe that they had only come that short distance. She huffed. As far as she was concerned, Ernest Shackleton had nothing on them. She shivered, and followed Will inside.

"Good evening, Maam." The concierge nodded at her, bowing slightly.

"I don't know about 'good'." She grinned. The man laughed, and watched them get into the lift. They caught sight of their reflections in the mirror…and immediately burst into another fit of laughter. Everything above the small part at the bottom of Will's face which had been covered by his jacket was a red as a tomato. Set against his black ski jacket and his blonde hair, he looked ridiculous – like a colouring book drawing that a three year old had coloured in.

Mackenzie wasn't fairing any better either, however. She too was scarlet, but her look was made all the worse by the sodden indigo bobble hat hanging limply over her head, framing her face alongside the soaked bits of hair peeking out the sides which were plastered to her cheeks.

In short, they looked a complete state. But despite the cold and their appearance, they were doubled up laughing.

The elevator doors opened to reveal Will's pad. She'd never been here before.

It was open and spacious, and clean, very white, and fairly sparse. A pang of sadness lurched in her stomach – their flat hadn't been like this; nor had the flat Will had owned before they briefly moved in together. Damnit.

Will was heaving off his heavy coat and his boots. He shot her a look and she took the hint to do the same. Once she was down to her trousers and shirt, she shivered. Luckily Will, her knight in shining armour for the evening, emerged from his room in jeans and a thick jumper, and handed her a pair of track pants, a t-shirt, and a hoodie. She smiled gratefully, and made for the bathroom.

"Want some cocoa?" He called from the island in the kitchen. She grinned – Will was such a child sometimes, but she loved that about him; he totally embraced it. During the winter he always used to have hot chocolate as opposed to coffee or tea; and she would tease him, and he would tease her back saying the British had gotten to her – she would give some lame line about the Boston Tea Party and it would all descend into ridiculousness which generally ended up with the two of them snuggled up in bed after great sex.

Oh memories…

She smiled and called back to him, "Yes please!"

* * *

**_Next chapter is cocoa chat, Will seeing Mac dressed in Will's clothes, a blackout, and the crucial missing link: why was Mac having to go home when surely she could have just gone to Wade's?_**


	4. Cocoa with an Irregular Guy

_**In the Bleak Midwinter… Ch. 4**_

_**First of all…apologies for not updating this for a while, I just have so many ideas going round in my head :p Next chapter will be up asap. This one has a little extra dose of angst to spice things up.**_

* * *

It was hopeless. Her hair had decided that it had been through enough trauma in the blizzard and so it had earned the right to misbehave and be lazy. She frowned into the mirror at it, but to no avail. Sighing, she pulled Will's old Jet's t-shirt over her head and took a moment to just breathe in the smell of him that lingered in this place. She decided to have quick nosey around.

In his cabinets were a lot of sleeping pills, some dental floss, cologne, shaver…pretty standard. She did, however, notice that the robe hanging on the back of the door was very familiar. She had given it to him for Christmas the holiday before they had broken up. It was now four years old. A tiny, sad smile flickered as she realised he had kept it because she had given it to him. It was hard to hope that they could make this work again; but on the other hand, it was ten times harder to give up that hope. It was like an addiction.

Pulling her arms through the sleeves of his hoodie, which was lovely and soft and cosy, she rolled the bottom of the track pant legs up so that they were at her ankles, and padded out of the bathroom in search of socks.

Folding her arms and rubbing them to try and heat them up she hopped onto Will's rug to keep her feet off the cold tiles as she headed back to the kitchen.

"What is your problem with socks?" She asked, frowning as she spied a pair sitting on top of a pile of laundry which had clearly been delivered recently.

Will turned around, amused. "You've been raking around in my drawers?"

"No." Mac replied indignantly, choosing a thick red pair and slipping them on. "I didn't need to; I just assumed you haven't changed your ways." It was the kind of in-house bickering that had been a daily occurrence back in The Old Days. And they both loved it. Mac looked up, trying to balance on one foot, on eyebrow cocked as she grinned slightly.

"Why? If I went in there now, would a find a mountain of socks ready for duty?" They both looked at each other for a moment, before simultaneously looking back to the laundry basket where there was indeed a mini sock mountain, freshly cleaned. Mac turned back looking pleased with herself. Will just made an immature face and handed her a steaming mug of hot cocoa.

"Here, take this and shut up." Mac grinned. It burned her tongue furiously, but she didn't mind. It was worth it for the heat that spread outwards to her extremities as the cocoa slipped down her oesophagus. Will was drawn to her expression as he stirred his own, watching Mac's eyes close in a moment of innocent bliss as she drank the cocoa. She looked so serene for maybe two seconds, before the mischievous look once more appeared behind her eyes as they opened once more.

Chucking the teaspoon in the sink, Will slipped a lazy arm around her shoulder and guided her to the sitting room, and he sofa. He took the other end and copied her as she pulled her legs under her, snuggling into the soft leather.

"Thank you." She said in a soft voice as she looked over the rim of her mug. "Really, you're right I'd have hated going home in this. You'd probably have found my body preserved in the snow somewhere on the East Side in a few days' time."

Will found himself smiling back, unable to resist the happy glaze of her eyes, and the way her toes were wriggling to some rhythm that only Mac could hear inside her head. He missed the little Mac-isms that she used to subconsciously share with him every day. He missed _her_.

He hadn't realised that he had drifted off into the ethers of his mind, but Mac had – the tell-tale signs of looking slightly trancelike from the faraway look in his eyes. Question was: was it a good memory he was revisiting, or a bad one?

As he jerked himself back to the present, something Mac had said suddenly crossed his mind, and he frowned, lowering his mug at the same time. Mackenzie looked questioningly at him.

Oh, should he? The potential was there for them to have a very nice night together…how nice he wasn't sure – he didn't know exactly what he wanted from Mac in any capacity, or when. But if he asked this question he was fairly sure, any chance of anything would go down the drain. But this was Mackenzie – and he had to know.

"Why were you going home?" He asked slowly, gazing straight into her eyes, trying to make sure she didn't look away.

"I don't get it." Mac looked confused. Will just looked at her, and she tried to figure it – oh. Oh wait. No, she knew exactly what he was getting at. Wade. Wade who lived in central Manhattan. Not so far from here, in fact.

She didn't want to say anything. All it had been was a minor argument between them; but when she was with Will, she was scared that he was going to see it as a colossal thing – and the most awkward thing was, she didn't know if that's what she wanted him to think. If she let him think it was a big deal then it would either give her hope that Will still wanted something between them, _or_ it would mean that he would get smug and lord it over her. If she tried to defend Wade too hastily then it would piss Will off and make it sound like she was serious about Wade…which she was…wasn't she?

No. She _wanted_ to be. She wanted a partner, security, to start thinking about a family. But truth be told, the man she wanted to be doing all of that with was right here. Not nine or so blocks further up the road. What should she say?

Whatever she said or didn't say Will wasn't going to let it drop until he found out the truth, and he'd know if she was lying. She broke his gaze and peered down into her tea.

"We just had an argument. That's all. I don't really want to see him right now."

"Did he hurt you?" Mac's head snapped up in disbelief at his response. Will had leaned forward slightly, and was looking at her with a gaze so piercing that she could almost feel its physical pressure on her face. She scrabbled to answer quickly so it wouldn't look like Wade had.

"No!" She assured him; he looked at her keenly to make sure she wasn't lying. "Will, seriously, he can be a bit of a jerk sometimes – he's a regular guy – but he'd _never_ – no. You don't need to worry."

Will sat back against the arm rest, relaxing a little. She watched this, still stunned that that had been his first response.

"So you think men are jerks?" Half teasing-half anxious, almost. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Mac's mouth as she looked at him, her heart melting a little.

"I said regular guys are jerks." He glanced up to meet her eyes. She shook her head ever so slightly, a regretful smile now taking form, "You're not a regular guy."

She said it quietly but clearly, absolute honesty staring back at him; he found himself transfixed, unable to move. Right then all he wanted to do was put both their mugs down on the coffee table, take her face in his hands, press his lips to hers and start something which he wasn't sure he'd be able to – or want to –stop.

Of course he didn't, instead coughing to clear his throat and becoming once more transfixed by his mug. "Glad to hear it."

Although her smile widened, there was now a sadness behind that gaze which he was avoiding. She knew what he had been thinking; she knew that look. The look he had given her so many memories and which had been the spark of so many great nights for the two of them…

She had to look away and clear her own mind…that was the second time tonight she had been reminded of the intimacies she and Will had once shared. And, although it certainly wasn't the first – not even the hundredth time since they'd reunited, it had never happened before when they were alone, essentially trapped, in a flat.

Will felt he had only kind of slightly ruined it. Which meant it was salvageable. He noticed that she was now examining the chip under the handle of her mug, and he suddenly registered for the first time that she was sitting cosily snuggled up in his clothes. She was wearing him.

No. Stop! Stop this now. This is _not_ a good idea! She's just had a fight with her boyfriend! If you do this now, then – then _what_? What would make it different from any other time he might have thought about doing this. He felt so confused, so torn.

Mackenzie could feel eyes on her, and snapped up to meet his clouded gaze.

And that's when the power went out.


	5. The Partial or Total Absence of Light

_**In the Bleak Midwinter… Ch. 5**_

_**So I'm not entirely sure how this happened. There was no way I intended for it to get this dark, but that's where Will's mind at this particular point in time took me. I'm actually considering taking this down and re-doing it, but I trust your opinion more than I trust mine so I thought I'd let y'all have a look at it first.**_

_**P.S. i'm not sure if the rating for this is quite "M", but word of warning, it gets a little intense for a wee bit near the end.**_

* * *

Was it a minute? 5 minutes? Half an hour? Mackenzie honestly couldn't be sure. All she was aware of was the sound of Will's breathing in the darkness, and a strange sensation of not actually physically being in contact with him but still almost being able to feel the heat radiating off his body in contrast to the cold sofa. What had just happened? There had been that – that – _moment_ between them. And then darkness.

She decided that one of them needed to break the silence, and clearly Will was a little pre-occupied (with her! A shiver ran down her spine). "Will?" She spoke uncertainly.

He seemed to snap out of it. "Yeah – right. We should probably – there's some candles –"

"In the hall cupboard." She finished, slowly getting up and adjusting her balance to the darkness. Those damn blinds being closed wasn't quite so helpful now! The NY city officials certainly had their moments – of utter stupidity.

"Yeah," Will answered, trying to catch up with her. He had been lost in memories, trying to get it out of his system, fully aware that he would be spending the next God-knew-how-many-hours with Mackenzie in the flesh, very much vividly and physically present. SO he had tried to get past the wild ideas and moments from the past that his brain had been running away with.

He closed his eyes in frustration, rubbing them with his fists. And then he groaned as he realised what Mac had just done. She had known where the candles were – and he loved that. He loved that she remembered and that it was like she had never left. But at the same time he hated her for it. How the hell did she get to betray him, leave a trail of devastation behind her, and then come back and everything is like it never happened.

He knew he wasn't being fair – knew that over the last few months she had done more than enough for him to consider forgiving her. Yet he found that he could not. Which was really annoying because he wanted her back so badly; his brain was pleading with him to shut down before it fizzled out due to an overload of thinking.

The soft padding of feet on tiles alerted him to Mackenzie's return. She was carrying four or five tea lights in her hands, and set them down on the coffee table.

"Got a light?" Will reached into the drawer next to him and held a spare out to her. Her hand closed blindly around his in the darkness and there was a spark of electricity before she took the lighter and returned to her work.

It was literally like she had put him into a trance or under a spell – his mind was working at about a fifth of its normal pace as he was simply transfixed and consumed by the thoughts he had been having since he had brought her home. Why the fuck had he done this to himself? And what on Earth was this going to do to her? This wasn't going to be fair on her.

Mac had been willing to make her own way home – knew that she could have asked him at any time to crash at his and he would have said yes, but she hadn't; because she was a lot smarter than him. She had known this might happen – she had properly realised the complexity of their current relationship, whereas he had been so obsessed with her betrayal that it had overshadowed the rekindled feelings for her which, now that he was being honest with himself, had been there as soon as he had laid eyes on her in the newsroom bullpen.

One by one, five little flames flickered into life, and Mac bunched them all together into a group so as to maximise the light. She took her time in turning around to face him, warily meeting his gaze when they were finally facing each other again, her looking down at him.

She seemed to hesitate, folding her arms and closing herself off from him, "I think, maybe, we should call it a night." She said it carefully, in a measured voice, but the glint of the candlelight allowed Will to see the expression in her eyes, and it made him feel guilty. She was hurt and confused, and he was the reason. He really shouldn't have brought her here.

He swallowed, looking down at his now empty mug. "I think you're right." He said hollowly. She nodded, biting down on her lip. "I'll take the sofa, you can sleep –"

"Will, I think it's probably better if _I_ took the sofa?" She said tentatively. She appreciated the gesture, but the idea of sleeping in Will's bed right now freaked her out. It wasn't that she didn't want this – she loved him. Sinking into the sheets with the lingering smell of Will on them, which she had long missed was incredibly appealing but…

Will's face tripped as he nodded his ascension. "Sure. I'll just go and get you a –"

"Thanks." And that was that. Will abruptly stood up to find some bedding for her. But as he moved away, he brushed past her, and in the gloom she lost her balance and nearly fell onto the table of candles. Will's arms were her saviours, instantly wrapping around her waist and pulling her upright.

The sensation of him being pressed next to her was like a paralysing agent. She could smell his aftershave, feel his breath, hear his heartbeat, feel the exact outlines of his fingers on her waist and hips. She shut down.

Will seemed to be experiencing a similar feeling, not wanting to move or speak, even though a huge part of him was screaming that this was the wrong time and the wrong place – but that part was being shouted down by a smaller but much louder part which was screaming that this was right, that this was how it should be; just the two of them.

They were so close that their breaths mixed together, warm from the cocoa. Mac's nose, which had been left exposed to the low temperature, was now feeling like it was on fire next to Will's lips.

"Mac –"Will's voice was raspy, and dangerously low. She shivered again, trying to pass it off as the cold, but his grip increased on her as a response and she found herself inwardly cursing. Her arms were resting timidly on the forearms that were holding her. As she began to sense his head lowering, his lips coming closer, she made the split-second decision to wrap her arms around him and press her face into his shoulder. She was so confused that she just wanted to cry and be alone to try and get all of this straight in her head. All her emotions were so damn conflicting!

Will sighed as he realised what she was doing, and allowed her to hold him, pulling her as close as she could physically be. Why did this feel so wrong? It was right! It was what the rational part of him wanted – the rational part of her too; he was sure of it!

His fingers travelled up her back, and entwined in her hair, the other hand still settled at the small indent just above her hips.

Again, time seemed to stop for them, and Mac lost track of how long they had been standing there. But the reality of the last moments between them caught up with her and she knew that she needed to put some space between them. But Will didn't seem to agree.

"Will," She pleaded, "Please can we just go and get some sleep? We both clearly need some space. "The answer that was in his eyes could not be clearer: everything he needed was right in front of him.

She was starting to get angry with him – frustrated. He had been making comments at her, and piling on the guilt for almost eight months now – and then he suddenly decides he wants her? They still had issues and he was jumping the gun – big mistake! But shit! She wanted him too. It was incredibly aggravating. And the problem with them and their past relationship was that any aggravation had been creatively deconstructed and repaired in the bedroom.

"Let me go." She said softly, still in a pleading tone, staring at the point on his shirt where she knew, under his skin, his heart lay.

"Can't do that Mac." It was true. He had never been able to just let go of her, and he didn't think he ever would. Her head snapped back up to the side of his face that was not in shadow, and as soon as they locked eyes she knew exactly what was about to happen and that she had no hope in hell of stopping it.

His lips met hers in a searing kiss, that was ten times more fiery than the candles she had lit. And as much as she knew she shouldn't, she found her lips moving back against his, quickly finding their old rhythm, as she pressed herself impossibly closer, his hands beginning to wander.

All she could think of was Will, and his lips, and his touch, the smell and taste of him infecting her. This was what she had hoped for so desperately, almost every day since she had made that stupid fuck-up to end all fuck-ups. But these last few months she had made a conscious effort to move past that and find a life for herself; but all that resolve was now being undone by Will's insistent tongue, and caressing fingertips. He walked them back so that his knees hit the sofa and he sat down, pulling her on top of him so that she was straddling him.

His mouth left hers and began to reacquaint itself with her neck, littering kisses from her ear all the way to her collarbone. Automatically it seemed, her head rolled backwards to give him greater access, and her eyes closed in utter pleasure – god she had missed this! Her fingers were twisted in his hair and raking across his scalp, making him groan. She could feel the heat between her legs increase – knew that Will knew it too. His hands had slid under her t-shirt, and were working their way upwards. As they grazed the underside of her breasts, something finally kicked into place and she fumbled to stop his hands and hold them away from her.

Shit. This was going to hurt. She could see the whole scene play out in her head like the trailers you see in cinemas before you see the movie. His eyes were dark and hooded; she expected, reflecting her own.

"I can't." She choked out. "I'm so – I – Will, we can't do this. You know that."

The change in his expression happened so fast it was like he had slapped her. It went from aroused, to devastated, to furious in a matter of seconds. He gripped her hands back, holding on far too tightly, but she didn't fight it, trying to reason with him.

"What? So it's okay to cheat on me, but not with me? Jesus, Mac!" he flipped her onto the couch, and stood up, pacing, his hands running distractedly through his hair.

"Come on, that's not fair!"

"Fair? FAIR?" He looked almost frightening in his anger, "Since when was any of this FAIR, Mackenzie? What did I ever do wrong, huh? Nothing! You said so yourself! I did absolutely nothing to upset you, except clearly make you bored –"

"NO –"

"So you went and had lots of sex with your ex – for FOUR months – and then finally told me when you thought I was going to propose!" He knew he wasn't being fair. That wasn't exactly what had happened – he knew it was more complicated; but simplifying the facts and upping the blame on her made him feel better so he continued, ignoring the tears that were fast welling up in her eyes as she sat looking sexily dishevelled after his ministrations. This annoyed him even more.

"But now you're with this asshole of a guy, who – God knows what you're doing with him – he's nowhere _near_ good enough for you – and despite the fact that you don't love him you're not willing to be with anyone else, even though you did love me!"

He finally came to a halt, breathing very heavily, his eyes burning painfully. When he properly looked at her, he at last saw the streaked make up from the tears that were running down her face as she sat looking up at him, completely broken and silent. He had quite simply torn her apart. And the heartbroken, bitter part of him was glad of it.

The simply stared at each other for a moment, before she wiped her hand across her nose, and looked down at her feet tucked under her. She tried to speak, but her voice hitched, and she put her face in her hands, squeezing her eyes to try and stop the tears, but it didn't work. Twice more she tried to say something, and either because she couldn't speak or because she couldn't find the words, she ended up shaking her head and pushing herself off the sofa, disappearing down the corridor and into the darkness.

Will McAvoy was no stranger to ripping a piece out of a politician or a spokesperson on the news, but he had never seen anyone fall apart quite like he had just seen Mackenzie do so. And _he_ had done it. He had totally torn her apart.

His mind was now strangely blank. He didn't know what to think.

A moment later, Mackenzie reappeared with a spare blanket and a pillow, and silently bedded down on the couch, before turning away from him and burying her face into the sofa corner.

Taking this as his invitation to leave, he gave one last long, hard look at the small body curled in on itself, tried to block out the shaky breaths that were coming from within the sofa crease, and blowing out all of the candles except the one which he took with him, he headed for his bedroom without a backwards glance.

* * *

_**SO….**_

_**Yeah…not entirely sure whether I'm keeping this. It's up to you lot really. **_

_**If you're missing the fluff (I know I am) then it should return chapter after next - if that's any incentive for you… :p**_


	6. Its Always Darkest Before the Dawn Pt 1

_**In the Bleak Midwinter… Ch. 6**_

_**It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn Pt. I**_

* * *

Three hours later, Will lay wide awake in bed trying to ignore the stabbing cold that was piercing through the duvet.

It had taken about an hour for the impact of what he had said to her, and the impression of her tear-stained, abjectly horrified and apologetic face (which was now burned into the back of his eyelids) to really sink in. And it felt awful.

That day in the office after she had sent the email, and her declaration of love for him was replaying itself over and over in his mind, interspersed with the invading image of her, broken, on his sofa at his hand.

Of course she wouldn't want to cheat with him. After seeing the level or remorse and regret over what she had done to him, Will doubted whether she had ever managed to keep a straight face whilst telling a lie to someone close to her since. He knew her – Mac had always been annoyingly ethical and loyal, and she would have mentally beaten herself to a pulp over this. And now he had just given her round two – brutally! Any time that she had been forced to lie to a friend in the interim period (she was a journalist, it was in the job description), he was absolutely certain that the first thought into her head had been her affair; a kind of mental torture.

He knew his cheeks were wet; they had been for a while. He would never be able to take back what he had said. Apologise, maybe, but now those words were out, he couldn't take them back. Especially since he had said them fairly honestly – any attempt to say it had purely been anger, and Mac would see straight through him. She always could.

How the hell could he make this up to her? He subconsciously decided to get out of bed, lighting his candle – he clearly wasn't getting to sleep anytime soon. He was cold, he was upset, and he needed to see her.

Mackenzie was in a similar position to how he had left her, except she was now facing out the way. And she was in a fitful slumber, shivering under her thin blanket. Her face was a total mess of streaky make-up and redness around her eyes. Hoping he wouldn't wake her, he lightly put the back of his hand to her forehead – she was like a block of ice, and her hair still felt damp.

Any thoughts of sitting, trying to work out what had gone wrong earlier vanished as he put down the candle, and gently slid his arms under her, making sure he took her blanket with them, and lifted her slowly, spiting himself for relishing the warmth that erupted in him just for having her in his arms. Blowing it out, he cautiously walked back to his room, trying his best to make sure she stayed asleep, before depositing her carefully on the bed and making sure the blanket was still wrapped firmly around her, before slipping in behind her under the duvet and pulling it over both of them. He somehow felt it was important for her to still have some sort of barrier between her and him.

As he pulled her to him, and started gently rubbing some heat into her arms, she miraculously stilled, and seemed to drift off into a far more peaceful sleep. Despite the make-up, she looked beautiful and peaceful, and cute.

After a few moments, she curled into him, her body clearly craving more of this new heat, and he drew her closer still, tucking her head under his chin, and praying that when she woke up she would accept his explanation for this.

She was a calming influence on him too. Having her in his arms was soothing; despite her being the primary cause of his insomnia…apparently she was also the cure.

He slowly drifted off to sleep as he breathed in the scent of shampoo and was warmed by her arms pressed again his chest, and the rise and fall of her body as she curled into him; her steady breathing was almost therapeutic.

* * *

Mackenzie awoke in a much more comfortable place than the one she went to sleep in. She could still feel the blanket wrapped around her, but she was under some sort of heavier material, and she could feel another band of heat wrapped around her waist. It was very comfy; reminded her of –

Her eyes flew open as she suddenly realised where she must be. On the clock sitting on the table behind Will's head it said 0832. The warm material she was under was Will's duvet, and the band of warmth wrapped around her waist was Will's arm.

He was curled up just behind her, though not quite touching her and he looked utterly serene.

She lay, raised on her elbows for a moment, processing what must have happened. She didn't understand. Last night he had been so enraged with her…that he would carry her to his bed and tuck her in as if nothing had happened? For one horrible moment, she remembered his grip on her arms last night, and then imagined him bringing her – no. She trusted Will. She knew that the driving force behind his actions had been hurt – hurt which she had been the cause of. He would never intentionally harm her.

So why had he done it, then? A small, timid voice inside her head was telling her that maybe he just needed to get all of that out. Maybe this meant that they could finally move on, move forward. But then…what he'd said had not exactly sounded promising for building a relationship. Which sucked, because Mackenzie knew now without a shadow of a doubt that she was (and always had been) in love with Will McAvoy.

She didn't think they'd talk about this. Last night had been extraordinary circumstances. They had been in an unusual and extreme situation, and tension had finally peaked…so now there were back at the bottom of the meter, right? Yet... she thought, how long would she be stuck here for? Long enough to get him to that point again? She was determined that they needed to have this out properly; she was just unsure about the best way of going about it.

Lost in her thoughts and regrets, Mac curled into herself hugging a pillow to her chest for warmth and wriggling her feet. The resolution for their problems seemed to be at the end of a long, dark labyrinth of emotions and conditions. But one thing about mazes and labyrinths…there was always an exit if you could only find it.

* * *

"You were cold." Mac jumped as Will's voice came from behind her. She turned uneasily and saw him leaning awkwardly against the doorway of his room. She couldn't comprehend how long she'd been out here by herself - long enough to clean up the mess that was her face, but it still felt like ages since she'd moved. "You were freezing it seemed stupid not to – and I didn't want to wake you up after – but I left the blanket on 'cause I didn't want you to think –"

"I didn't." Mac supplied quickly. Will searched her eyes for a moment, and then to her great surprise, padded over to the sofa and sat down, waiting for her to speak. But she couldn't think of what she wanted to say – where she wanted to start.

"Will –"

"I scared you last night." He said quietly, looking down at his hands which he was twisting in his lap. She stayed silent. Yes, he had, but she didn't want any more guilt between them than there already was. Silence was as good an answer, however, and Will looked up again, tears glistening in his eyes as he caught her expression. "I am so, so – Mac, you know I would _never_ do anything to you –"

He had to look down again, but that was all Mackenzie needed to hear – last night had been a messy release of tension that had been building up for months, and which neither of them could have hoped to control.

She knew she shouldn't, that if there was no blizzard raging outside she would leave right now, but since that wasn't an option she moved to the sofa and put her arms around him, burying her face in his neck and curling into him. He responded immediately, pulling her into his lap and hugging her back tightly.

"I was selfish. You didn't want to cheat on someone else after what – after last time." Will spoke quickly, after a few moments of just holding her.

"I can't even explain last time, Will, please believe that." Mac mumbled into his neck. "I'm not that type of person – or at least I didn't think I was." She pulled back, and laid her head against his shoulder, playing with a thread on his jumper. She frowned at something, and then looked back up at him, finally meeting his gaze, "And that is why I can't –"

"I know." He cut in, gently putting a stray hair behind her ear, and absent-mindedly running a finger down her cheek. "I know, and I won't ask you to again. I was way out of line last night. Forgive me." Mackenzie thought for a moment. "Can you forgive me?" Their eyes met again and silence fell once more between them, before Mac realised how that had sounded, "I didn't mean that as a condition, or an ultimatum – I just wanted to know."

He looked at her seriously for a moment, and then sighed; wrapping a finger in her hair, "I think if I assumed any moral high ground again after last night…" he dried up, not knowing how to continue.

"That wasn't what I asked." She said quietly. For a second, Will thought he saw a flash of amusement in her eyes, before he remembered what they were talking about and promptly dismissed the idea. Struggling with his answer, he leaned his forehead against hers.

"I want to." Her breath caught in her chest, hope filling her. She knew what her next question was going to be.

"Why?" She desperately searched his face; his eyes were not meeting hers but focussing instead on some point next to her chin. Almost impatiently she put her finger under his chin and raised his eyes to hers. There was a tortured expression in them.


	7. Its Always Darkest Before the Dawn Pt 2

**_It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn Pt. II_**

**_Nervous about this one. It's a Moment - hope I got it right! EEEEEEEK!_**

* * *

"Because I..." he groaned, frustrated, gripping her hair more firmly as though he was trying to force something out from the bottom of his soul, "I – oh God, Mac you already know why…"

He looked helplessly at her as she held her breath, hanging on the edge, her eyes darting so fast between that it made him dizzy; it was like she was trying to have _them_ tell her why instead of his mouth. After a moment she realised it was not going to happen, and she slumped back from him a little, smiling sadly. "I think I do, yeah."

His sigh was torn between showing his relief at her understanding and his frustration with his own insecurities. He loved her, but he couldn't tell her because he could not forgive her – that was their real tragedy. He knew it and so did she; so she did the only thing that seemed acceptable in the stalemate they now found themselves in: she snuggled into him again.

"Where do we go?" Will asked hollowly. She closed her eyes, wondering whether it was possible for emotional pain to manifest itself in physical aching. They had clearly reached an impasse and it was her move. How long could she do this? A three year contract? She didn't think so. She wasn't planning on giving up just yet, but an impasse meant she now had to consider the multiple possible outcomes:

Option a) Will and her manage to reconcile: they live happily ever after. (The best one; and the least likely.)

Option b) Will didn't manage to overcome his feelings: she punishes herself forever and accepts that she will never find love equal to it. (The one she did not want to think about.)

Option c) Will doesn't manage to overcome his feelings and she has to…urgh (The one which was most realistic…)

She screwed up her eyes again. She had been dreading telling him this since she had realised it; but she had known that she would have to do it someday.

"Will – you _want_ to forgive me – I get that. And if you do then I'll come back to you in a heartbeat; but I need you to understand this: I'm nearly forty years old. For the last four years my life has been haunted by old regrets and roadside bombs, orphaned, homeless children, the worst kind of violence and inhumanity…I told you that I came home because I wanted to be in a newsroom again – and that's true, but I've also seen what it really means to be alive – to have something – someone – to live for. I grew up a lot, and I want that for myself." She stopped talking, realising that she was speaking very, very quickly, like word vomit; she looked at him sadly.

"I want what I only used to daydream that I'd maybe _one day_ have with you – only now I don't know if that future is possible – though I know that it's my fault – and I'm getting older and I've started to see that I've screwed up and so I might just have to deal with second best."

She shrugged brusquely as she finished, looking back at Will, who to her complete unsurprise was looking the picture of stunned. She sympathised – it had taken her the better part of two years to sort all this out in her head, so for him to hear it all in the space of five minutes must be quite trying.

She gently moved off his lap and sat next to him, twisting so that she was facing him, subconsciously starting to fiddle with the fingers on his left hand.

"I think," She began slowly and carefully, not sure how much more she should say, "if we had still been together, things would be very different for us by now."

Will closed his eyes knowing that she was avoiding the word "family". He too had had dreams of mini Wills and Macs running, playing and laughing in a leafy suburban garden – had been starting to sneakily go around the jewellery stores of New York looking for The Ring. He looked back at her and saw that her eyes had become very watery once more, the regret etched onto her face like terrible graffiti.

"I completely understand if you can never forgive me. You've had a – a shit life in terms of betrayal Will, and I've only made it worse. And after I got to the Middle East I used to think that my one wish in the world would be to have you forgive me – but realistically – having been in a warzone for – having seen what happens to people who never stop being careerists – how lonely and – I mean if I have any hope of just being normal – of having a family –"

"Mac, stop." He stilled her fidgeting hand with his own, his own eyes stinging. She had lost her own battle to hold back the tears.

"I'm sorry Will, but that's the truth. I'm not going to lie to you – not anymore. Right now all anyone will ever remember me for is winning a couple of Peabody's and breaking the heart of the only man I ever loved." She looked up at him, a fierce, blazing look of determination that he had always adored suddenly staring back at him. "But I know I can do better than that. I know I can do something worth being remembered for…even if it's only by a few."

He had no idea what to say to that. Part of him was completely devastated that she was telling him this; the other half strangely proud to hear her say it. He shook his head, trying to unstick his throat.

"And you're thinking of doing this with Wade?" He said the man's name with distaste, staring hard at the coffee table, as though it was personally responsible for the birth of Wade. Mac shrugged, "I don't know. We've been dating for four months, I have no idea what he wants or where this will go." She glanced back at him, smiling sadly, wriggling her hand out from under his so that she could resume playing with his fingers, massaging them gently. She sniffed.

"I said that I wasn't going to lie, and I won't." She took a shaky breath, looking him right in the eye, "There is no one I'd rather be with – rather 'do this' – settle down with – than you." He stared back at her, transfixed and unable to look away.

"I love you Will. You're the only person I've ever truly loved – and I don't know how it would work, how it would be different; but…if I can't have you than I need to move on and start looking for the next best thing because I'm on a time limit here…and I don't want to end up as alone as some of the people out in that terrible –"

She took a great rattily breath as she tried to make sure she didn't start crying again. Squeezing his hand again, and keeping his gaze, she found that this time her smile wasn't forced or sad – she meant this: "I would wait for you forever…if I had forever. But…he'll never be you. Ever. You – you have to know that."

She lifted his hand and pressed a very watery but soft kiss there, before resting her head back against the sofa and allowing her eyes to flutter shut as she let out a deep breath. She knew that she had just sounded like she had given up…and she didn't want to…not just yet.

Mac felt, not happy, but as though a massive weight had been lifted off her chest. Between this and last night's little episode, they were finally clear on where each of them stood. They both knew that this push and pull between them was not healthy for either of them in the long run; and if nothing else came out of this then at least they had made the waters that they were treading a bit less muddy.

She felt Will's fingers begin to play with _her_ hand, and she couldn't help the small smile which spread across her face as he did so.

"You're right." He said in a quiet, hoarse voice, "I _don't_ know if I can forgive you – I want to Mac, I really do – but for some reason I – can't."

He sounded frustrated with himself as the smile on Mackenzie's face turned to a grimace. "I understand."

"I used to dream about us too, you know." That put the smile back on her face as she twisted her neck so that she could look at him, knowing the wistful look she would find on his face.

"I know. I used to see that look on your face in the morning when you woke me up." Will turned and smiled sadly back at her. "I always thought you'd make a great father, Will."

As she said this, another wave of anguish hit her like a wave knocking her into the swell and she whacked her head against the back of the sofa and brought her free hand up to pinch her nose. "Jesus, I was such an idiot!"

Will avoided her gaze, finding that actually seeing her berate herself for her mistake physically hurt. He wanted to hate her for it, and yet he hated to see her in pain. Surely that meant something?

Too confused to say anything else at this moment he looked instead at his watch, which to his shock informed him that it was after half past ten. He suddenly realised how hungry he was.

"Uh, Mac? Can I…get you something to eat?"

Mac was silent for a moment before she burst out laughing.

* * *

**_It's not a lame ending, there are slightly chirpier times to come now that they're on the same page. Have faith._**

**_Slightly scared that I made Mac a little to girlie in this chapter…but I think being in a warzone would have given her a different perspective on what she wanted in life. As I think I've said before, I really hope Aaron puts in more about the impact her and Jim's experiences have had on them_**.


	8. The Sky Begins to Clear Pt 1

_**Apologies for the shortness of this chapter, but it is Part 1 of 3.**_

_**In the Bleak Midwinter Ch. 7 Part I**_

* * *

The days that followed that night were…peculiar; and none more so than the following morning after they had had breakfast.

It hadn't been unpleasant, or even that awkward – it had just been quiet. It was as if they had said (and done) too much too fast, and their brains and emotions simply couldn't process everything. If Mac had been hoping to get Will to a point where they could talk again, her hopes were dashed by mid-afternoon. It felt as though yesterday they had been chasing each other round a formula one race track; yet now it felt more like being on a children's merry-go-round in a play park – the type designed not to go more than ten miles an hour for fear of injury. And they were sitting on opposite sides of it.

If they did talk, it was to comment on a news story they had found in one of the week's newspapers which Will piled in a stack beside his sofa, or on one of the news channels flashing in the background. Safe topics, you might say. However, the storm outside was nothing compared to the inner turmoil they were both experiencing. Emotions, memories, possibilities and regrets rattled around each of their brains as though someone had charged them with an electric shock and then set them loose.

Nine o'clock somehow arrived and Mackenzie piped up that she should probably try and make a run for home. To his immense frustration, Will found that he didn't want her to leave – even though they can't have spoken for more than twenty minutes since brunch. But he knew that he had absolutely no right to ask her to stay, and that actually it would probably be better for both their mental healths if she _did_ go.

He stood next to the island as she pulled on her coat, and handed her the bobble hat and her scarf. He didn't quite let her have it immediately; he held onto it for a moment, forcing her to meet his eyes, trying to express once more his regret about last night. She understood immediately and gave him a small but reassuring smile as she gently tugged the clothes from his hands. He remembered with a small smile how only a day ago he had been teasing her about those things and making her laugh.

Slightly disappointed, he leaned against the island, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he waited for her to be ready and looking at the floor broodily. After a moment she coughed and he looked up. She looked very pretty. A small smile on her face and a lack of make-up, and the way that the soft lighting lit her face meant that that she miraculously looked about seven years younger. Almost exactly like she had when they first met. His mood softened and he wondered for the hundredth time that day where the hell this was going to end up. Was she actually going home, or was she going to Wade's which, as they had discussed yesterday, was closer? It wasn't a blizzard anymore, but he wouldn't blame her for not wanting to go all the way to her place.

Not that he understood why she was living all the way out there anyway – Mac should have no problem affording somewhere more central and –

He realised that he had completely lost track of his thoughts and caught Mac looking at him slightly worried. He forced a smile that he knew she would see through in an instant onto his face and reached over to open the door for her.

"You sure you don't want me to walk you?" He asked half-heartedly. He knew her answer and she knew it, but she managed to smile again at the gesture. She just shook her head, lip once more caught in her teeth and started out the door, but before she had taken one full step she turned back, and quickly put her arms around him.

Caught by surprise, it took Will a moment to return it, slipping his hands around her waist and in her hair, holding her gently but close. If only she hadn't been with Wade, these last two days might have turned out so differently. His eyes closed, a hiss of annoyance at the cruelty of Fate escaping him, and so he missed what Mac mumbled into his shoulder.

"What?" He said into her hair.

"Just thank you." She said a little more clearly. He frowned, resting his head once more on her hair and pressing the lightest of kisses there, purely by instinct.

"Not sure what you really have to be thankful for." He murmured back. She didn't say anything, but simply squeezed her arms around him more tightly, leaning more closely into him.

She shot one final, uncertain look at him as she walked out the door, and when it closed he twisted and sank down it to the floor.

Damnit. He hated that everyone was so unclear between them. Hell, they'd certainly managed to sort some shit out, but they weren't on any clearer a path than they had been when they'd arrived here the night before. All that seemed to have happened was that everything became even more muddled.

His phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket. He snatched it up, convinced it was going to be Mackenzie. Staring at the message ID he snarled, and sent the mobile spinning across the floor.

It was just that stupid text alert reminding him about his weekly 10am therapists appointment which he never went to. He put his head back in his hands, wondering what to do. If only he could just _think straight_…

His head snapped back up as his gaze focussed on his phone.

All of a sudden the confusion left him as he listened to his blood in his ears and the deep breaths he was taking.

Desperate times called for desperate measures…

* * *

_**Three guesses what the next part is... :p** **And the good news is it's half written. Part 3 is in a similar state. Took me sooooo long to get back into this story. Hope you will all come back!**_


	9. The Sky Begins to Clear Pt 2

_**So this is basically a psychological dissection of Will throughout this story. AAAAAAAAH. Let us begin…**_

* * *

It took him all of ten minutes to decide that this had been a terrible, stupid, idiotic idea that could be excused because of the emotional tachycardia he had been experiencing since two nights ago. Or – well – eight months ago if you want to be dramatic.

Not only was this young upstart _not_ his father (who Will presumed he had been paying for three or four years) but he was asking questions which were completely irrelevant to why he was here. Not that Will actually wanted to talk about why he was here. He had decided that he didn't actually wanted to talk about it; he wanted to leave. He did not want to sit here and talk about anything with this child – particularly since their current topic of conversation was his father. That was a never a great way to start up a conversation with Will. The Habibs had so far been the only other people as stupid as Mac to try it – it just made him angry. Though, in fairness, Mackenzie had found a very good way to comfort him afterwards. Hopefully Doctor Jack Habib was not having similar ideas.

However, he had to hand it to him: this guy had done his research since taking over his father's practice – seriously! Though…how sad a guy are you that you have clearly sat in your house and read files about the love life of a patient who you have not seen in four years? Jack actually managed to stun Will slightly with how much he could actually tell him about his and Mackenzie's relationship without having met either of them before in his life.

It had taken them a whole thirty-five minutes to get onto the topic of Mackenzie, and Will was loathed to find that as soon as Habib slyly brought her name up, he twitched slightly, and a knowing smile appeared on the young therapist's face.

"So. Mackenzie? She's really what's prompted you to come to your first appointment in three and a half years?"

He really hated it when people outsmarted him. And this guy was nearly twenty years his junior. Bastard.

He didn't say anything, just sighed and lifted his eyes upward, squirming again uncomfortably.

"Will, I can't help you if you don't tell what has happened with Mackenzie." His voice was softer, the smile vanished from his expression, which was no more patient, and with no trace of judgement to be found anywhere on his features.

"How do you know something's happened?" Will stalled. Habib rolled his eyes, and Will could sense the impatience beginning to build in the man, even though he was doing a fabulous job of visually hiding it.

"It's fairly common knowledge that she became your executive producer again and that you are now working together once more; but that was nearly eight months ago, yet you're only coming to me now. So what's happened? What's changed?"

Will's eyes narrowed in annoyance. What a smartass! Damn!

"How's your relationship been since she came back?"

He felt so torn. Part of him wanted to get up and leave, and the other was so relieved that someone seemed to understand this better than he did and was begging his consciousness to let this guy try and unravel the mystery of whatever was going on inside his and Mackenzie's heads that was causing them so much frustration.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead – it slightly felt like when you rub a crystal ball in the hope that some clear image will appear to tell you what to do. To his surprise it actually worked! Mackenzie's confused, hurt face when Will had been yelling at her after their kiss popped into his head and his eyes opened. He needed help.

It took longer to tell the story than he had thought. He hadn't actually realised that so much had happened between him and Mackenzie – or at least that _he_ felt had happened between them.

Jack sat and patiently listened to him, not commenting; only occasionally probing for more details if Will mentioned something offhand or tried to make something sound like it meant less to him that it actually did.

"So," Jack started slowly, finally saying something substantial after Will had finished talked about meeting Wade and the team's coverage since Election Night. "That brings us up to Christmas…you've only done one broadcast since then, so what happened during that day?"

"It snowed." He replied, flatly. He felt very drained after explaining everything to Doctor Habib; but he was determined to finish what they had started now – now that he had put the energy in he wanted to get something back. Then he remembered that the really complicated stuff hadn't actually started yet and he groaned inwardly, trying to not to let anything show on his face. But Jack Habib had been watching him carefully for an hour – he knew something important was coming.

"It snowed? How does snow affect a newscast apart from the signal?"

"It affects how you get home after the newscast." He looked warily at the younger man. He wasn't proud of how he had treated Mac the night before last, and particularly in light of the fact that they had spent a good twenty minutes talking about his childhood, he wasn't all that wild about having a conversation about his abusive father and his behaviour towards Mackenzie in the same session.

"You walked Mac back to hers?" Will could tell that Habib knew exactly where Will had walked her to, and he didn't understand why he had asked this question if that was the case. He decided to play along, however.

"No. Her apartment is on the other side of town, so I said she could stay with me until the storm died down."

As he said it out loud, even to Will it was obvious what would have happened – or at least what anyone with a brain and hormones would expect to happen with that as your opening line.

"And she agreed to come?"

"No, I kidnapped her and carried her in a fireman's lift through midtown Manhattan."

"Her boyfriend didn't offer her to stay at his place?" Will frowned. Damn, this guy was good.

"They had an argument. They aren't speaking right now."

"So did she say that he didn't offer her a place to stay, or that she just wasn't talking to him?" Will opened his mouth to answer, and then promptly shut it again, trying to remember Mac's exact words. Now he thought about it…he didn't actually know if Wade had asked her. He only knew that she had said they weren't speaking. Wait. "_They_ weren't speaking" or _she_ wasn't speaking to _him_?

He racked his brains…what had she said? Moreover, what would it mean if Wade _had_ offered her a place to stay? Did it mean anything? His brain was trying to do too many things at once, and he needed to let his head fall backwards onto the rather comfy seat as he screwed up his eyes and tried to remember, pushing the "what ifs" to the back burner for a minute.

_We just had an argument, that's all. I don't really want to see him right now. _

His eyes opened again, and he felt slightly dazed. There was no way to tell from that if Wade had asked her or not. But it did make it sound like she was the one who was angrier…

"Will?"

"She said that they had had an argument and that she didn't want to see him right now." Even his voice sounded dazed. Jack looked back at him thoughtfully, but then seemed to catch the expression on his face and, having also come to the conclusion that there was nothing definite to be deemed from this statement, decided to move the conversation on before Will became fixated on a small possibility.

"Do you live in the same place you did then?"

"By 'then' you mean four years ago?"

"Yes. When you and Mackenzie were together."

"No."

"How did you feel about having her in your apartment?"

"I –" Will gulped. Good, the voice inside his head admitted. For some reason the next time he spoke it came out slightly choked. "She remembered where everything was. I mean – she'd never been there before but she knew, she just – she knows…"

"You?"

"She remembered where I keep candles, and that I have a problem with socks –"

"Did she seem comfortable?"

"Sure, at the start. She just –" He ran his hands through his hair in frustration; he was on a roll now, "- just looked like she belonged there! Damnit, she was just curled up on the couch, wearing my clothes, drinking cocoa – we always used to drink cocoa. She was making jokes, and just – God it was so annoying!"

_Annoying but amazing_, the small Voice of Truth piped up again. Habib held up a hand.

"Okay Will, three things. First of all: she was wearing your clothes?"

"Yeah, I lent them to her. It was a blizzard outside, we were both cold and damp – we were freezing."

"Okay. Secondly, was the cocoa her idea?" Will frowned, unsure why he was asking him this.

"No, it was mine. Why?"

"In a minute. But first I want to know what you meant when you said Mackenzie was comfortable 'at first'."

His jaw dropped. He hadn't even been aware that he had said it like that. Jack was giving him a very keen look, and although Will had known that they were going to reach this point of the story at some point, it did not make him any less comfortable about discussing it – in fact, even less so since it had happened earlier than he had been anticipating.

"Will, I'm going to ask you again. What happened to make Mackenzie feel uncomfortable?"

"I asked her about Wade."

"And this was when she told you that she and Wade had argued?" he nodded, slightly numbly. "And how did you react to that?"

"I asked her if he had hurt her – if she was okay."

"How did you feel about the fact that she and Wade were having problems?"

Honesty was shit. It made you feel shit. A lot of the time, anyway. How pathetic was he sounding right now? This was exactly what he had been scared would happen when he had sat across from Charlie in that restaurant and his boss and mentor had announced that Mackenzie was coming back. Well, he hadn't realised it at the time, but that was what he had been feeling: hopeful. Anger too, but there was a lot of hope there. Last night and the night before had given him a real physical longing to have Mac back in his life, but he was fully aware that however pissed off at her he had been these last few years, he had always felt feeling of loss and longing to some degree; it had never _just_ been resentment. He loved this woman.

He never answered Jack's question, simply said. "After I asked her, the power cut out."

The therapist looked at him sharply, about to push him to answer the question, before he caught the look on Will's face and realised that it had not been a deliberate attempt to sabotage his inquiries or to dodge his interview. "And she remembered where the candles were."

"It was dark and she lost her balance, so I caught her."

Habib could tell that Will was on autopilot now, that he probably wouldn't need to press too hard for answers, because Will was absorbed in the memory. Or not…his patient seemed to have frozen.

Just like he had after he had left Mackenzie on the couch, Will was completely absorbed in running through why he had done what he had…why he had kissed her. Primarily he knew it was because he wanted to…he always wanted to kiss her. But why had he felt that moment was different, or was it just spontaneous? All this self-psychoanalysis reminded him that this was precisely why he had come to a professional: because all that happened when he tried to do it himself was that his thoughts and where they started and where they ended became one massive pile of spaghetti covered in thick, gloopy sauce.

"What happened, Will? What did you do?"

"I kissed her."

The images running through his head and the flesh memories that he was having were very distracting. If he could reply those couple of minutes – and only those particular couple of minutes forever, along with a few old memories – Will thought he might just be able to make it. But the guilt, and his conscious always let the memory continue.

"Did she kiss you back?"

"Yes. Well – she told me that we shouldn't, but once I kissed her she kissed me back."

"Did you take it any further?" Urgh, he felt like a teenager! And he was older than this prepubescent! He briefly wondered if this guy was married; if he had kids. How depressing would that be? God...

"For a few minutes. But she stopped me before I took it too far."

How were they only up to this point in the story? It was going agonisingly slow for him – and maybe he accepted that a part of him deserved that, but he really didn't think he could stand going through this bit by bit. What was that old saying about band aids? You had to rip them off fast and it would be less painful? He sighed, and as Jack was about to speak again, he decided he was just going to see how far he could go before the guy stopped him.

"Look. She said that she didn't want to cheat on someone _again_, and I got angry and said that I was pissed off because she had managed to find it within herself to cheat on me, and consequently preceded to tear her apart – I _broke_ her – and then left her alone in the dark.

"I couldn't sleep for three hours and decided to get up and walk it off, but when I got to the sofa she was freezing and having nightmares, so I carried her back to my room and kept her warm. She wasn't there when I woke up. I don't know how long she'd been awake for, but I apologised for scaring her and we cuddled together on the sofa and she told me that she loved me and that if she had forever she would wait, but that she was getting older, and her experiences in the Middle East had made her want to settle down and have a family, and that she accepted that she had cheated on me, and might have to settle for second best. I told her that I want to forgive her, but that for some reason I can't; and then we didn't really talk for the rest of the day and she left at about nine, and I haven't seen or spoken to her since."

He slumped back in his chair and took in a massive breath, feeling as though he had just exorcised a ghost or something. As his eyes once more found Doctor Habib, a faint feeling of amusement shot through him. The younger man was sitting forward slightly, looking as though Will had just whacked him over the head with this massive retelling as opposed to just speaking it to him.

"That's the short version?" He asked meekly. Will grinned ruefully.

"I'm afraid so." Jack looked as though someone had just stolen his puppy; looked at his watch his expression fell further.

"Look, Will, I'm really glad you came here today and that you felt you actually needed to do something about this situation – because please believe me when I say you really, really, absolutely need to do something or you're going to go mad. You should also know that I think you might already have made a start by having this time with Mackenzie – regardless of how it turned out; I think you both needed it.

"However, we've already overrun by an hour," Will looked at the clock on the wall and realised in shock that the guy was correct, it was now nearly noon. Mac would have his ass – he'd missed the 11 o'clock briefing. "But, consider the last hour, making up for all the ones you've missed. Sadly I have a client at midday, but I do have an open spot tomorrow from a cancellation if you want to come back before next week…I know you'll be dealing with Mackenzie a lot in the next couple of days, so…you clearly have a lot more for us to discuss."

Will thought for a moment. Had this helped? He wasn't entirely sure, but Jack was definitely right about one thing: he would be back working with Mac the next couple of days, and he wanted to get his head straight as much as was possible. It was a split-second decision.

"I think that would work, yeah."

"Great. Nine o'clock tomorrow morning, then."

* * *

_**Okay. I take it back…maybe it's going to be a four-parter…but I don't really want it to be a four-parter. Oh dear. I'm sure I'll work it out.**_

_**I also apologise for any spelling/grammatical errors. I'm writing this quite sleepily, but there's a crowd of drunk Spanish people having a party a few doors down and I'm clearly not getting any sleep just yet :p**_

_**P.S. fear not, Mac is back in the next part :D**_


	10. The Sky Begins to Clear Pt 3

_**In the Bleak Midwinter Ch. 7 Pt III**_

* * *

Mackenzie had hardly slept at all after she had gotten home from Will's. She had pulled the chilled bottle of wine from her refrigerator and left it on the table as she poured a glass and stuck her feet up on the coffee table as she turned on the News and pretended to watch. Ignoring the now fairly constant stream of texts and missed calls from Wade (she had switched her phone onto silent this morning so that Will wouldn't know that she was getting them), she simply sat staring at the TV screen, but not really seeing it; instead watching the reel of memories from the last two days which was on repeat behind her eyelids.

If she was honest with herself, she had known something was going to happen if she went home with Will – that was why she had agreed to it. She chose to ignore Wade's apologetic plea, and Jim's kind offer of a sofa bed, pizza, and drinking some of the remaining Afghanistan tea which they had brought home with them (they only drank when it was the two of them), and instead knowingly accompanied Will back to his apartment in a blizzard where she was bound to be there for at least a day.

On the other hand, if she was honest with herself, when she thought something would happen, she thought it would be merely an argument – well, that technically happened – but in that they would just have it out – not _make_ out and get half way towards ripping each other's clothes off, before going their separate ways and then somehow miraculously ending up in the same bed by morning.

That part had been an emotional upper cut to the stomach. She certainly hadn't expected to be quite so open with him about what she wanted, and to her great surprise he had actually been a lot more open with her than she had been expecting…but in order for that to happen (what she had really been wanting to happen) they had had to go through the whole drama of the night before.

She closed her eyes wearily and let her head roll back against the sofa. Oh Will, why couldn't you have just not brought up Wade? We could have had such a great night…

A frown flickered across her face without her permission. _Wade_…

She supposed that if only she had just broken things off with Wade they could indeed have had a _very_ pleasant evening, because that kiss…_oh_, that kiss…

But would they have survived that? Would they have survived just having sex? Where would they have gone afterwards? Will said it himself…he couldn't forgive her…yet. Or maybe ever. And then there was her fucking guilt! She couldn't believe that Will had asked her that: "How can you cheat on me, but not with me?"

Could he not understand that there was nothing she wanted more in that moment than to let herself go, let him run his hands over every inch of her, wrap herself so tightly around him that neither of them would know where they ended and the other person started? Could he not tell from the way she was looking at him that there was nowhere in the world she would rather be than in his arms?

She could feel the wetness on her cheeks now, and when she finally opened her eyes she looked in shock at the bottle as she realised it was half-empty already. For a second she looked at it suspiciously, like it might be deliberately mocking her; then had to come to the inevitable conclusion that the bottle had not mysteriously hidden half its contents, and that they must therefore be somewhere in her oesophagus. Well…she was half way through…what the fuck? She reached to refill her glass.

What would happen tomorrow? As she placed the bottle back on the table, the flickering light coming off the TV illuminated something on her arm which she hadn't noticed. Frowning, she put her wrist more fully into the light of the TV and gasped slightly when she realised what it must be.

There were four marks: two fairly clear, and the other two more faint on her left wrist. She quickly put down her wine and shoved her jumper up so she could examine her other wrist. The marks on this one were much fainter…Will was right handed after all. She hadn't even realised; hadn't even felt it.

She felt more tears falling from her eyes, but she quickly realised that they weren't because Will had hurt her; but because she knew that if he ever found out what he had done, he would never, ever forgive himself.

They hadn't mentioned his father and the influence his behaviour had had on Will's psyche and aims in life, but they had both referred to him indirectly.

It had been a heat of the moment thing that neither of them had planned or wanted, and perhaps they had always been headed for a confrontation of some kind since the moment that she had first seen him in the Newsroom on the day of the BP oil spill.

It had been passionate, angry, heated, loving, and regretful all at the same time. Yes, Will had kissed her when she'd asked him not to – but not because she hadn't wanted him to. But because she didn't want him to think that she would cheat on someone again after what happened with him, and then for him to believe that she had not changed her ways and then never speak to her again. She had thought that stopping their tryst would help matters, but all it had done was make things worse, more complicated. Was there no way for her to win?

As she picked up her wine glass again and sunk back into the depths of the couch, she decided to indulge herself for a few moments and just remember the feel of Will's lips on hers for the first time in four years, his hands pulling her on top of him, him kissing her neck, and pulling her close; waking up next to him, snuggling into him on his sofa – Will holding her.

He loved her. That much she knew. And the potential for them to have more mornings waking up together like that morning was enough to make her drop everything and run to him, explain that she would be standing there until he felt he was ready to take her back. But then, she also knew Will. Knew that he held grudges like no one else; that forgiveness was not something he could readily give to anyone. Not to his father, and she seriously doubted to her.

Will had told her that he wanted to forgive her; but the honest, realistic part of her consciousness uttered what she knew to be the realistic outlook: however much he might _want_ to, in all likeliness he couldn't. If they were any other couple, this might be fixable. But they weren't any other couple – they were Will McAvoy and Mackenzie McHale, and what they had shared was one in a million. One in a hundred million! And she had fucked it all to hell. Literally. God she made herself sick sometimes…

* * *

When she drearily woke the next morning, stiff and in an awkward sitting position on the sofa, empty wine glass resting on her stomach, she figured that that might have been the last line of thought she had before she had dozed off. And a cheerful one too, right?

She groped around the sofa for the small device which had woken her (it used to be that Will had to spend ten minutes coaxing her back to consciousness, but Afghanistan had soon knocked that habit out of her). Her phone was vibrating every few seconds as it buzzed angrily to let her know she had a text.

She rubbed her eyes blearily so that she could see clearly enough to read the message. It was from Charlie.

_Back on today kiddo. See you in a little bit. _

She groaned. Obviously she had known that their permission to bunk off probably wouldn't last more than a day – people needed the news – but the prospect of spending ten hours in a confined space with Will and thirty odd people who knew them (and knew their day-to-day behaviour) was not a welcome one. Charlie in particular seemed to have a built-in radar when it came to her and Will. He could always tell when something was off, or something new seemed to have developed. He would spot their change in demeanour within seconds – because she knew without doubt that it would be different now. She knew that _she_ certainly wouldn't be able to just pretend as if nothing had happened; and if she knew Will, as hard as he might try to act normal, he wouldn't be able to either.

* * *

After a steaming hot shower, a starbucks, and deciding to walk to work instead of hailing a cab, Mac felt a little more alert and ready to face the day. Though when it came to facing Will she still had reservations.

As she pushed open the tall glass door, she took a deep breath and tried to walk a little taller. _Here we go..._


	11. One step forward, two steps back?

_**One step forward two steps back?**_

* * *

The staffers at News Night seemed to have enjoyed their snow day and came back to work in far better spirits than they had been during their post-Christmas depression day. All the staffers…except for two. And moreover, this was instantly noticed by everyone. By noon, there was a pool going that Will and Mackenzie had had sex during the blackout and were now having to live the awkward ramifications.

It was strange to the staffers, however. It wasn't like they were arguing or at each other's throats, having screaming matches in the middle of the bullpen (which to anyone normal, or who didn't work at ACN, would be a sure sign that two people had slept together who shouldn't), rather it was the _lack_ of it that made everyone certain something had happened. Will and Mackenzie were being quiet – which was creepy.

Will seemed to be struggling to talk to her, and Mackenzie seemed to want to spend as little time as possible in his company as a result.

By five o'clock, however, some of those who'd made a wager were regretting their money when Wade Campbell strode into the office looking for Mackenzie.

* * *

It was the fact that he was late which pissed her off first, and then from thereon in they seemed to just fall apart. Whenever they were together, they just seemed to malfunction.

When he didn't show up on time for the tone meeting, she decided to give it five minutes before it became unacceptable. On any other day she might have been a bit more lenient, but today was the day after yesterday and their joint open-heart surgery on their relationship. She had managed to show up to work, so where the fuck was he? Was he really going to act the child and avoid her? Like fuck he was. They were not going to bring their (new) problems to work.

For the past eight months they had done a pretty good job of managing to maintain a professional relationship despite occasionally having to deal with something personal spilling over into this part of their life. And really, what had changed apart from they had said some things which they had both at least suspected about the other at some point since they had reunited? Yet apparently, this emotional intensity was too much for William Duncan McAvoy. He was an hour late. An hour and ten minutes.

He arrived at twenty past, sliding into the room and excusing his absence with "bad traffic". Mac nearly snorted. She shot him a nasty, disapproving look and didn't bother going over what he'd missed – telling him instead (she felt like a fucking 10th grade teacher) that he would have to catch up later. For a moment he looked like he was going to argue back, and then he caught her expression and his face softened into what she thought for a moment was worry or regret; but after the last twenty-four hours she quickly dismissed that and turned back to her white board.

She didn't care that everyone had noticed how snappy she was being, she just cared that yesterday she had sliced open her heart to Will and handed it to him on a plate to do with what he wished, and then this morning he hadn't even tried to make a good start. She had been under the impression that he cared about her enough, no matter what she had done, to at least meet her in the middle on this. Because after their day together, she definitely wasn't the only one in the wrong anymore. They both had things they needed to make up to each other. So why did she feel like she was going to be the only one trying?

After that the day just did not get any better.

Whenever Will tried to talk to her, he seemed to clam up; and every time it happened it made Mackenzie want to scream at him.

She knew that part of the reason she was so immediately angry was her realisation from the previous night: that Will probably _couldn't_ forgive her – and that just made her pissed at herself right from the starting block.

She also knew that although she had gotten rid of the headache and had given herself a caffeine boost, the effects of a hangover were still finding ways to break through her defences…oh, and why had she been drinking? Oh yeah. Because of Will. Because she couldn't stop being in love with him even though she strongly believed that he couldn't be with her. And that just made her feel stupid sometimes, even if she couldn't seem to do anything about it.

The one thing she just really didn't understand, however, was how they had gone from being relatively close and passive about working through their problems yesterday, to becoming like a square peg trying to fit in a round whole today.

She had hugged Will goodbye yesterday, and he had said that he didn't think she had to be sorry for what had happened between them – which a stout part of her argued was bloody true – so how had he gone from that to being evasive, awkward and pretty much silent?

* * *

Will was also feeling the tendrils of confusion grappling at him. He could take a guess at why Mac was angry at him – he had known he would be late and that she would disapprove; but he thought she was over-reacting slightly.

Considering what he had done two nights ago, she had been unexpectedly close and open with him…but now? He didn't know what he had done to make her change her tune so drastically. They hadn't had any contact since she had hugged him goodbye the night before…so what had changed?

She had been – well, optimistic was maybe too strong a word – but she had been open and willing to give them another go only hours before. She had said she would be willing to wait for a little while, and that she still loved him – she had been very receptive to the idea of them working through their issues.

And he wasn't quite ready to tell her that he had gone to a therapist this morning; but he felt slightly like she had slapped him in the face now that he was trying to make some changes (not that she knew of course).

He didn't know what to say to her; he only knew that he didn't want to say the wrong thing. He felt like if he told her about Habib then would be a tick in the good column for him, but he just couldn't yet. Maybe after tomorrow's session with young Habib, when they had more time to talk through the finer points of some of the things Will had told him this morning, then he would be at the stage where he could admit to her that he was seeking professional help – though maybe not go into details just yet.

Until then, however, he just tried to do nothing that would upset her.

The other problem was that he still hadn't gotten over the memory of kissing her. The day before, he had been able to have her close by him without anyone seeing. They had cuddled on the couch in the morning, and then (although they had spoken very little) they had remained close to each other throughout the day. Just having her there was soothing, and had made him more optimistic that they could work through this.

Now, however, they were in an office full of gossips, and even if Mac had been okay with it – which he somehow doubted she would be in her current state – there was no chance of him being too near her for fear that someone would start the rumour mill and put unwanted pressure on an already fragile situation. Not only that, but rather than seeming to want to be close to him, Mackenzie seemed to be doing a lot of walking away from him.

He felt lost.

Nine o'clock tomorrow morning could not come fast enough.

* * *

What Will would not discover for three whole days, however, was that nine o'clock the next morning was already too late.

When Wade strode into the office at five that afternoon, Will was upstairs having an early dinner (or a very late lunch) with Charlie, and he would not know until New Year's Eve that Wade had ever been there.

* * *

_**Hey guys, this isn't compulsary reading, but I was a little wary of a few things in the last chapter, and since someone did pull me up on it, I'd like to clarify a couple of things just for myself more than anything…**_

**_In reply to a guest review:_**

_"She felt more tears falling from her eyes, but she quickly realised that_  
_they weren't because Will had hurt her; but because she knew that if he ever_  
_found out what he had done, he would never, ever forgive himself.: - huh.. so_  
_he bruises her and she's just going to forgive it? im not into that._

_"God she made herself sick sometimes" - yeah Mac is breaking my heart right_  
_now & will needs to grow up._

_**I would definitely count myself a feminist; but having said that, there is a guy in my life who, like Mackenzie, I would actually put before myself; and maybe to some that's anti-feminist/pathetic/ridiculous, but I genuinely believe that there are some matters of the heart that transcend politics regardless of what gentitalia you possess; it's not something you can help. When people say that a woman is somehow weak when actually the term I'd use is human, it's frustrating.**_

_**So, I totally get where you're coming from, and she's not just going to forgive him per se…but…you have to remember how screwed up both these people are AND how long they've been screwed up for.**_

_**I have to say that I did struggle with that part of the last chapter, and I had a few doubts about posting it; but in the end I hope I was true to Mackenzie – whatever you think of her – because maybe not personally, but I professionally want to BE her! And if I found a "Will" in my life…which hopefully I will find in order to get over a certain other person, then I'm pretty sure I would kick myself to hell and back to fix it. If you've never had an infatuation/been in love/had your heart broken then it might not mean as much to you…and for that I'm sorry.**_

_**As far as I'm concerned, Mac is one of the most brilliantly written female characters on TV right now – and mainly because she doesn't live up to the male stereotype of a 21st century feminist, but she still manages to stay a strong and admirable woman.**_

_**I hope I've clarified myself a bit…I did have some secret worries about the last chapter…**_

_**Thanks x**_


	12. A Monkey's Fist

**In the Bleak Midwinter Ch. 9**

* * *

"How was your day yesterday, after our meeting?"

Will sighed; generic shrink question. But he also desperately wanted answers and hopefully advice to help him sort the mess that was his mind out, so that he and Mackenzie could begin to work things out between them.

"It was – it was terrible, actually. I don't know what happened between then and my apartment, but Mac was just…cold, angry…I don't know how to describe it really. I have no idea what I've done."

Habib looked thoughtfully at him for a moment before shifting in his seat slightly. "How were things when she actually left? You said that you didn't really talk for the rest of the day."

"No, we didn't. Actually the only time we really spoke that evening was when she left. She started to walk out and then turned back and hugged me. She said 'thank you' and I said…I said that I didn't really know what she had to be thankful for. And then she left…that's all that happened."

"And how did you feel after she had gone?"

"Confused. I didn't know where we stood with each other."

"Okay." Habib leaned forward in his seat, and Will couldn't help the feeling of relief that ran through him as it became obvious the Habib knew something he didn't and was about to clear something up. "There's something you need to understand about this, Will. As far as Mackenzie is concerned, you are the one in control here. She's not going to push you or make you do anything you don't want to because she feels that she doesn't have the right to do that after what she did to you four years ago."

"Doesn't sound like Mackenzie." He joked, as he tried to take in this new point of view.

"Well…if you were feeling confused when she left, she'll have been feeling doubly confused, because she's waiting for you to take the lead here; and if you're confused, then she's lost. When she embraced you that was probably small part desperation and confusion, small part comfort."

"I don't know where you're going with this."

"I'd like you to tell me about the evening you and Mac shared during the storm in detail. Just run through it all, but I'd like to know exactly what happened."

Will had been afraid that he would ask this. He didn't really want to have to run through it all again with someone else listening; but he thought of Mac, and how she was the reason he was here in the first place. And if what the doctor said was true, and she was waiting for him to take the lead with their relationship, then he wanted to sort this out.

"Can I ask you something first?"

"Sure."

"Yesterday you asked who had the idea for the cocoa. Why?"

He thought that it was maybe a smile that had flashed across Habib's face for a second, but he couldn't be sure. Maybe he just blinked and his vision went weird for a second.

"Why do you ask Will? Seems a slightly strange thing for you to remember."

"It was a strange question." Habib laughed.

"Yes, to you I suppose it was." Now he was smiling at Will, and he was disarmed by it. Clearly this was a joke he just wasn't getting. Habib sighed and tilted his head slightly as he looked at will, almost like he was sizing him up. "I asked whose idea the cocoa was because it was something you said you used to do together."

"Right…" Will still didn't get it.

"Right. So if she had suggested it, then I would take that as a sign that she was comfortable around you, and was comfortable being in your flat alone with you - it would basically have been a very positive thing if you're looking to move your relationship forward." Will suddenly had the feeling he knew what was coming, and Habib smiled wryly as he saw the cogs turning behind Will's eyes, "But she didn't. You did. _You_ were the one who was comfortable, and to whatever degree relaxed and happy about having her there, even if you might have been nervous at the time – it was your subconscious. It was your instinct, your autopilot…so it's still a positive thing, Will."

"Right." Will's throat had gone very dry, and he wasn't quite sure what else to say.

"I think you need to have a little more faith in yourself, and also a little more faith in Mackenzie. You're doing better at this than you think."

"I have a lot of faith in Mackenzie." He said quietly. He didn't know exactly why he was defending this when her infidelity was the root of this whole problem, but he just did. His subconscious again?

"Professionally, yes. Of course you do. Maybe even as friends – you know she has your back. But she hurt you where it hurts the most – she hurt your heart; and until you can believe that she won't do it again, then this problem is going to continue. So tell me about your evening, Will."

Will was still feeling very muddled as he tried to absorb all this new information, but even though he didn't have it all sorted out in his head yet, he knew that it was all positive. Somewhere, somehow in his brain, this was doing some good. He began.

It took maybe the better part of forty minutes to get through all of it. Habib tried not to interrupt, but here and there he would press for a detail or ask him to clarify a point. Will actually felt a little worn out by the end of it. Emotionally worn out, he supposed.

When he had finished, Habib stared at him for a few minutes – Will thought he was perhaps wondering where to start with it all…and truth be told, he was scared that Habib was going to start with the part where Will had acted like the stereotypical image of a violent, angry, wife-beating man who drinks too much scotch and thinks the world is against him because his life didn't turn out the way he wanted. So he decided to jump in first.

"Why can't I forgive her?"

Habib perked up at this question, clearly once again surprised by Will's question.

"Uh, well why do you think you can't forgive her?"

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking! It's not that I don't think she deserves it; because honestly, I think she does. I – she's put up with me from the moment she got back, she's the beating heart of this show, she has done nothing but apologise whenever it's come up and she wears it on her sleeve for everyone to see. I _know_ she deserves to be forgiven…so I want to know why I can't do it."

Again there was silence for a moment as he finished talking, and he wouldn't admit it, but it was really starting to unnerve him. The younger man looked like he was thinking carefully about what he was about to say next.

"When you were telling me the part about how you grabbed hold of Mackenzie?" Will shut his eyes. Why was he bringing this up now? He nodded slowly. "Well, I think you already know where I'm going with this, but before I go any further Will, you are _not_ your father. And a fight with Mackenzie doesn't prove otherwise, okay? Everyone gets angry, and although I'm not saying that the way you treated her was right, it was a heat of the moment thing and you clearly regret it deeply, and you've apologised to Mac and shown her how you feel about it.

"However, as much as you may not want to hear this, your father does come into it. You had a violent, abusive father who abandoned you and your family when you were very young. It's the worst kind of betrayal and it's the one thing you cannot forgive. Mackenzie went back to her boyfriend because she saw a chance to get unrejected; you weren't even part of the equation. But she realised that she wasn't in love with Brian and that she was in love with you, and she wanted to confess everything before you took the relationship any further. But the point is that you weren't rejected, you were betrayed. And that's why you can't forgive Mackenzie."

Will stared at him, horrified. He was actually feeling slightly nauseous. "I can't forgive Mackenzie…because of my father? Mackenzie's nothing like my father!"

"But she betrayed you. It's not what she's like it's what she did that matters."

"That doesn't make any sense. I love Mackenzie; I hated my father! Properly hated him. I never even had the whole son-wanting-to-impress-his-father thing, it was just hate, loathing! How can you be comparing Mackenzie to that?"

He didn't understand the small smile playing on Habib's face. "Say it again, Will."

"How can you be comparing Macken –"

"No, the first part." Will looked at him, confused.

"I don't –"

"What was the first part?"

"That doesn't make any sense…" Habib nodded at him to continue, and Will suddenly realised what he'd been saying. He gulped. "I love Mackenzie; I hated my father."

"Present tense." Habib said softly. "This is good Will. I know you're finding it hard to believe that this is why you're having trouble forgiving Mackenzie, but I've counselled couples and in my experience, love – real love, mind you – overcomes betrayal every time.

"If you're really still in love with her, you'll find a way to sort this out."

* * *

Mackenzie dragged herself miserably into work that morning. She had had to do the taxi ride of shame back to her apartment before coming into the office and she felt rough as sandpaper.

There had been wine and maybe some spirits, and then what was only describable as torturously bad sex.

It had felt so wrong and mediocre, and the complete opposite of passionate. But she hadn't had the energy to deal with the consequences of not pretending like she wanted to straighten things out between them. If you could really call last night "straightening things out"…it had been more like pretending as though their problems didn't exist and that they were just a normal couple.

All Mackenzie had been able to think about as Wade kissed her was Will. She couldn't be entirely sure that his name hadn't slipped out, but if it had – and she's fairly sure that Wade would have noticed – then he didn't hear her.

As a result of this, she's even more pissed off at Will than the day before. Not only does the guy treat her terribly yesterday, but now he's haunting her relationship with Wade Campbell. She couldn't tell Wade about staying with Will…and she couldn't stand the reason why. Because she was upset, of course. For all of five minutes she'd had exactly what she wanted, and then she – _she_ – had been the one to call it quits and end it. And that was another thing: she was pissed off at him for being the reason that she had been kicking herself for the last two days. Scratch that, the last four years…it was just the last three days had been like slicing open a healing wound as opposed to something that she deserved.

Oh, and then there was the final kick in the teeth: that this hadn't been the first time she had been thinking of Will as another man kissed her. It had just made her want to cry. And more annoyingly still, she couldn't bring herself to regret kissing Will behind Wade's back nearly as much as she had used to regret kissing Brian. She didn't know whether to be happy about this because it was Will, or to hate herself more because it was Will…and it made her feel like she hadn't changed her ways; except this time she couldn't be sorry about it because the man she had cheated with was the man she was in love with.

"Mackenzie?" Gary had stuck his head round her door, wrenching her from her less than pleasant thoughts. He seemed to notice she wasn't looking happy because he frowned, but quickly took the hint from her facial expression that asking if she was okay would result in some form of pain. Thus, he instead continued with what he had been saying the minute before. "Sorry, but Charlie's aid was dropping stuff off and she said he wants you to join him for lunch.

"Um…now. He meant join him for lunch now."

She groaned, and ran her hands through her hair. Charlie was obviously onto them. Fuck!

He had been at the morning briefing and she had caught him looking concernedly between her and Will as she sniped at him every few minutes.

Knowing there was no way she'd be able to get out of it, she pulled herself up heavily from her seat and trudged over to the door and past Gary, heading for the lifts. Her only comforting thought was that Charlie had a lot of Bourbon in his office. It might make this a little easier.

OOOOO

"Ah, Mackenzie! Right on time. Food's going to be here any minute." He offered her one of his dazzling smiles, and she attempted to return it for all of a second before she gave up and her shoulders slumped as she fixed an exasperated look at the man in front of her.

"Charlie, what do you need?"

She felt as massive pang of guilt as the smile slid off his face faster than water runs off a cliff face. He sighed and rested his hands on the back of his chair, nodding pointedly at the seats in front of his desk. She silently answered his unspoken question and sank down into the one on the right.

He just stared hard at her for a minute, before slipping around the desk to take the seat next to her and pulled their chairs around so that they were facing each other.

"Mac sweetheart, right now I'm not your boss, I'm your friend. And Will's friend and I – I just want to see you guys happy again; whether that means you manage to kiss and make up or not."

She couldn't help it: she winced at the way he casually threw that out, and when she opened her eyes again she could see the grim expression on his face.

"I thought as much." She finally managed a smile ruefully, torn between bitterness and just wanting to cry and get this out of her system…for a while at least. "So the making up part didn't succeed, then?"

He smiled sadly at her, as she let out a bitter laugh and examined the nails on her right hand to avoid actually looking at him. "How on earth did you guess?" She asked sarcastically, "And I take it you're not the only one?"

"Oh I don't know…I think the betting pool took a knock after Wade showed up yesterday."

"Why on earth are you working at ACN? _Hello_ and _People_ are always looking for people with gossiping skills like yours."

"Well at least you didn't say TMI." He joked, leaning back in his seat.

"You're annoying me, but I'd never sink that low."

"What happened, Mackenzie?" He asked softly. With a shaky breath, she managed to raise her eyes to meet his again, and her heart cracked a little more at the genuine concern and worry that she found there. But she found it hard to speak, her voice once more clamming up as she had to work harder still to keep herself under control.

"It – Wade and I had argued, so Will offered to let me stay at his place during the storm –" She heard rather than saw Charlie's sigh of exasperation, "and then _we_ argued, and then we talked and then – and then – well, actually now I don't know what happened, I thought we'd…well maybe not made up but we'd at least straightened a few things out, and then he just –"

A tear had finally escaped her tired, frustrated brain and she curled up in her chair, and bit her lip for a minute to stop herself from actually sobbing. "Look, I clearly misinterpreted whatever it was that went on, and that's my fault, I'm just…just pissed off at Will because _I_ was an idiot. It's a coping mechanism, okay?"

He didn't say anything for a moment. "Well, were I your boss right now I'd be saying that it's not okay. It's affecting your work and your staff and you need to resolve it."

She glared at him, and he raised his hands placating her, "But…since I'm not, I'd agree that he needs his head seen to after the crap he's been putting you through since April – no matter what you did four years ago. You've completely turned this place around Mac; especially Will. However, you two just slinging punches back and forth at each other doesn't make any sense. You actually need to –"

"But that was what happened when – or at least that's what I thought had happened." Her voice had shot up an octave and she looked slightly mad, gesticulating with her hair messed up from where she had been running her hands through it. It alarmed him slightly. She was doing worse than he had thought. He decided to wait to let her finish what she was saying.

"Look Charlie, I've been thinking about this a lot over the last couple of days and…I think I'm going to resign. I was an idiot to think that Will could ever forgive – or maybe even just move past our history. He has serious trust issues, and not without good reason…it's just best. I'm hurting him by being here, and you're right: we know it's affecting our work, and it's unfair on everyone else –"

"Did you hear nothing I just said about you turning this place around?" Charlie interrupted, heatedly.

"But at what cost?!" Mac suddenly leaped up from her seat, and paced in a small circle. "Look I've laid the foundations; you and Will, and Jim and the team know where you're going now, you don't need me –"

"Mackenzie McHale, believe me when I say there is no one in the world that Will McAvoy needs more than you!" Charlie stood too and snatched her wrists in a firm grip to make her face him. But he instantly caught the slight wince on her face. "Mac?"

She looked like a frightened rabbit, and quickly freed herself from his hold, and flustered, looked over at the door. "Look, Charlie, I'm just going to go back downstairs and work on –"

Charlie caught one of her wrists again as she turned towards the door, a hard, determined look on his face. He saw her pleading expression, but ignored it and gently pushed her shirt sleeve up.

Mackenzie couldn't remember seeing a darker look on his face. Fuck, why did he have to know them so well?

She closed the hand connected to the wrist he was holding around his own forearm and squeezed gently, looking imploringly at her friend. "He didn't do anything. Believe that. He was just holding on a little too tightly. We were both angry and neither of us – _neither_ of us – noticed.

"Look, Charlie, I know you're trying to do what's best, but please understand me when I say you don't know everything about this. I promise, I am the very worst thing for Will. I'm a reminder of a horrible thing, and this isn't going to get any better. I'm sorry, but I'm giving you my two weeks' notice."

After pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, she left the room and left him standing there stunned, finally at a complete loss as to what to do.

It seemed like this was now completely up to them. The only people who had a hope of fixing Will and Mackenzie were themselves.

* * *

Will strode out of his office a few hours later, having managed to survive the day's briefing with Mackenzie…though only by the skin of his teeth. It hadn't been pretty. To say Mackenzie's attitude towards him had been frosty was like saying that the arctic was "chilly".

He had come away from his meeting with Habib with his mind more at ease, and his heart lighter than it had been in a while, and he'd strode into the office feeling positive that he was at least going to try and make leeway with their situation today. But Mackenzie's attitude hadn't changed. Though he now believed that it was down to confusion he was responsible for, he couldn't help but be hurt by the way she was behaving towards him.

All he wanted to do was tell her how sorry he was, and that he was getting help, and wanted to – well, he wasn't quite sure about that yet, but he was getting there. But he had no idea how to approach her about this; particularly after he caught the sad, hurt look on her face at one moment during the briefing when she'd let her mask fall for a second as she fielded an admittedly stupid question from Martin.

He could see that she was tired and she was stressed, so he now decided that he was going to at least try today. His words might come out jumbled and inarticulate, but he had to try; for her sake as much as his own.

"Anyone know where Mackenzie is?" He asked to no one in particular.

"Oh she's upstairs having lunch with Charlie." Maggie piped up from beside his elbow. Will frowned down at her. He hadn't been aware that there was a meeting scheduled between the two of them.

"Did she say how long she'd be?"

Maggie shook her head, looking at him with a slightly concerned look on her face. He looked irked.

"Will…if you're worried about Mac and Wade…they won't last. He's way too sleazy for her, she just needs to realise it."

"Wade?" He asked distractedly. Maggie bit her lip – she had thought that this was the reason why Will and Mackenzie had been cooler than ice cubes with each other the last couple of days, but now she was wondering if she'd just gone and put her foot in it again. She was on Will's side here – Wade was terrible for Mackenzie (perhaps more than she knew) and yet she and Will were clearly made for each other.

"Yeah. She was looking pretty unhappy with him yesterday."

"Wade was here yesterday?" Will asked, a shocked look coming over his face. Maggie looked at him again, feeling more and more like there was a massive part of this story that she was missing, and that maybe – as usual – things would be better if she had just kept her mouth shut.

"Yeah…what's wrong? He's here all the time. Will? Are you okay? They are still together, right?"

There was a faraway look in Will's eyes, his gaze having left hers and shifted to some point just above the five flat-screens hanging on the wall over the studio. "I'd say so."

She didn't know what to make of this strange behaviour. "Actually," Maggie shifted uncomfortably, suddenly looking nervous and hesitant. Will immediately noticed and his focus snapped back to Maggie's face.

"What is it Maggie?" She still looked uncertain. "I promise you won't get in trouble here. This is about Mackenzie?"

She nodded slowly, her hands fidgeting. "Yes. I didn't know whether I should say anything to her – it's not really my business but…she's Mac, and well – she's _Mac_…"

"Tell her what?" Will pressed softly. His eyes were darting between Maggie's, concern now flooding his senses. As much as Maggie's words had felt like a punch to the gut, he needed to know what she knew about Mac.

"Look Will, it's just hear say –the grape vine, whatever – but…my friend from college works as an intern to another New York DA and she just –"

"What?"

"On a coffee break she overheard one of Wade's PA's dissing Mac. Saying that Wade is only using her – that he just likes the chance to be on TV." She had said all of this very fast, her hands tucked so far into her stomach that it almost looked like she was trying to force this word vomit out before she could change her mind.

She could see Will's face turn four shades of red in a matter of seconds after she finished speaking, and she started to fluster.

"Will, seriously – I have no proof! None at all. I just – it's just office gossip someone overheard –"

"You'd be surprised how close to accurate office gossip can be sometimes, Maggie." Will said it quietly whilst staring at the floor, but it meant that Maggie caught the dangerous glint in his eye. She was utterly taken aback and unsure whether to press him on it. She decided that he had just let it slip, probably not meaning for her to hear it. She gently touched his arm to get his attention once more.

"Will? I can't prove it – and I don't want to pass it on like this…but maybe you know someone who could…" She tilted her head, trying to get a reaction from him. "…you know? Quietly do some digging? I'd hate it if it was true and she didn't…"

She faded out again. Will's stare was so powerful that she balked, sure that she had finally gone too far; but a second later he had put his hand on her shoulder and given her a gentle shake.

"Thank you Maggie. You absolutely did the right thing."

With that, he strode purposefully to his office and shut the door firmly behind him.

* * *

_**This has all been in my head for so long, so I hope it all came out okay and not muddled from over-thought :p Thanks for being so patient you lot! You wonderful bunch! :D x**_


	13. Of Brothers and Fathers

_**In the Bleak Midwinter Ch. 10**_

_**Brothers and Fathers.**_

_**Okay guys. Next chapter is the penultimate chapter, and it's written so it shall posted in the next couple of days! And hey, I actually mean it this time! It's written edited and ready to go. But I have a deadline this week and a friend visiting this week, so after that's over I'm going to try and get all these fics wrapped by December. As always, thanks for being such a patient, supportive bunch :)**_

* * *

It was four o'clock and Will was getting worried. Charlie was in some board-related financial meeting across town and Mackenzie hadn't been seen or heard from since she had left to meet him. Just about every member of the News crew had tried her phone, in some cases (Will, Jim and Sloan's) multiple times. She wasn't answering calls or emails. Calling down at reception, the clerk told them that he had seen her leaving at about one, but she hadn't returned.

Normally if someone had gone in a huff – he wouldn't have been happy about it – but Will would have at least understood that everyone loses it once in a while; but this was Mac. This was a Mackenzie who had missed the afternoon tone meeting. This was a Mackenzie he didn't know, and it terrified him. Where the hell had she gone? This show was her baby, even before you got to the issue that she was a workaholic.

Moreover, he had no idea what had happened between her and Charlie. After he had spoken to Maggie he had made some calls and then gone to meet an old colleague in the financial district, thus missing the impatient phone call from Charlie's office to get up there before he had to leave for this meeting. So he had no clue what was going on.

Another hour and a half passed before Jim finally knocked on his door.

Will had been fielding double the questions from his staffers than usual in Mac's absence, and when Jim knocked on the door, he had the urge to scream "PISS OFF!" before he saw who it was.

Jim looked as stressed as he felt – though Will was pretty sure that if he looked in a mirror then he would look worse. Although in a way they were on opposite sides when it came to Mackenzie – Will was the awkward ex, and Jim the loyal best friend – right now they were united in worry.

Mac's young producer didn't even wait for an invitation, just entered and sunk into the seat opposite Will, scratching his brow, looking lost.

"What do we do if she doesn't come back in time?"

Will looked at him hard, before replying – not really believing what he was saying, "She will."

Jim looked at him sceptically. "Will, have you ever known Mackenzie to just bunk off without a word? This show is her child; she wouldn't just leave it unless something major – and major as in_ life changing_ – had happened…so I hate to have to ask this, but what the hell is going on?"

He was so taken aback at Jim actually asking that he fumbled for a second, before a sharp, warning expression came over his face. "Jim, I don't think –"

Jim leaned forward, slapping his folder down on the desk, exasperation and frustration meeting on his expression. "No Will, I'm sorry. You might be about to say it has nothing to do with me, but you're wrong. You two have made this so that we – this staff – are included in whatever problems you have. You two ripping pieces out of each other every few hours is obviously going to affect us, because generally when you're in a hierarchy your leaders need to be able to function without causing each other to implode! You know the expression 'headless chicken'?"

Will was speechless. Jim – quiet, not-wanting-to-upset-anyone Jim – had more conviction in his voice than his brief outburst in this office on the day they had met. There was anger in his eyes and a determination that Will wouldn't have associated with him before now.

"Now, I don't know what the hell is going on, but I do know that Mac has practically been on her knees trying to make you see that she's sorry for the last eight months, so I swear to God if you've thrown it back in her face and made her leave, I wouldn't put a bet on me being the only one to follow her."

"Don't be ridiculous! She won't have _left_, left!" Will said it a little more harshly than he had meant to, or should have; but truth be told, Jim had once more undermined Will's expectations of him just then and gotten annoyingly close to exactly what Will knew was wrong here. The younger man's eyebrows retracted further into his hairline.

"Ridiculous? Look, I thought I knew Mac until I came here, and then I met you. So I get that there's more to her than she lets on, but even this new Mackenzie would never – _never_ – walk out on us without a damn good reason. So since you're probably the reason for it, would you kindly start picking up the pieces and tell me what to do, because I don't know what the deal is if she's not here, since as I'm sure you've noticed, she hasn't taken a day off in about six years."

Jim was actually breathing heavier by the end of it, and despite being demonstrably chastised at his words, Will softened as he watched his producer's face suddenly realise that he had just yelled at his boss, before his expression sunk into one of concern and frustration again and he raised his hand to rub his eyes, his fingers falling to pinch his nose.

"Look, Jim," The young man had just earned his respect as a person, not just a journalist, and Will leaned forward, deciding to level with him. "I know you care about Mackenzie – a lot. And to be perfectly honest you're a lot better at it than I seem to be lately."

Jim's expression turned to one of surprise and Will felt a jolt of amusement run through him. The guy hadn't been expecting this at all.

"You're right. We had a fight, and although I have no idea what I've done today to actually make her run out on us, I did do something stupid…but I swear I'm doing my best to fix it." He was starting to feel slightly self-conscious, explaining himself to a guy twenty years younger than him – but he suddenly felt like he had hurt Jim's sister and had the need to regain his favourable opinion. Jim was looking at him thoughtfully, as though undecided about whether Will was trying hard enough. "I'm sorry that you guys end up taking the fallout whenever we argue."

This earned a small smirk. Jim looked down at the thumbs he was twiddling before he looked back up at his boss. "You know the day she sent the email? She sent it because she had asked us all whether we thought you were an ass and no one defended you."

"That kind of remark could get a guy fired." Will answered, his heart sinking as he realised that Mackenzie had indeed been coming to his defence. Jim's smirk widened. "And you've just implicated the rest of the staff. But that doesn't mean you're wrong. I _am_ an ass."

"She seems pretty convinced otherwise." He replied quietly. Will let out a bitter laugh.

"I don't know why after the way I've been treating her." Now Will was the one examining his hands; though when he looked back at up at Jim, he saw something different in his eyes. Was that approval?

"Maybe she's thinking more of the past than the present?"

"Well that would make sense, I guess. I was nicer then."

"Because you had her." Again, Will was completely taken aback. Who was this guy? Jim smiled at him weakly. "Wake up Will. If you want her, you still do. For now, anyway."

His expression turned slightly apprehensive as he realised he was definitely pushing a boundary here. "So do us all a favour – particularly Mackenzie – and make up your mind. Now, what are we doing without her? Do you want me in the mic?"

Will stared at him for a moment, before deciding not to tell the guy he was out of line – because Jim wasn't. He was. He was so, so far over the line.

"Yes. Yeah, that works. Maggie steps into your position, and we have the rundown at six as usual and the show goes from there. Agreed?"

"Agreed. I'm pretty confident that I know Mac's way of doing things; I'm happy to pick up her side of running things so that everything doesn't pile onto you. Anything I'm unsure of and I'll pass it up to you."

Will nodded approvingly, and Jim stood up, gathering his folder back into his hands. He was almost at the door when Will spoke again.

"Jim?" He turned, expectantly curious. Will shot him another hard, meaningful look. "You do Mackenzie, proud."

He could tell that saying that meant a lot to Jim. He saw the proud look in his eyes as he took the compliment and as he nodded slightly, before pulling open the door and heading back to work.

When he had gone, Will spun his chair around to face the window, reclining, lost in thought. Where the hell had Mac gone?

OOOOO

Five minutes to broadcast and Jim was watching Will settle into his Anchor chair on the control room screens, checking the sound and lighting. There was a sudden silence behind him.

Turning around he saw Mackenzie wander into the room, looking very small. Without hesitation he strode over to her and pulled her into his arms, one arm going around her shoulders pulling her head to his shoulder, and the other around her rib cage.

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked in a stretched voice, relief audible to everyone.

She didn't reply for a moment, just melted into him, like she felt she was under a massive weight. "I'm sorry to have left you dealing with all this on your own. I just wanted to come and check that everything was okay."

She pulled back from him, a weak smile that didn't reach her eyes playing on her face. "Not that I really doubted you…but better safe than sorry."

From her facial expression, Jim knew he wasn't going to get anything else out of her. He tilted his head slightly exasperatedly, but her expression was set in stone. Sighing, he tugged his headset off and handed it to her along with his clipboard, but to his surprise she shook her head.

"No, you should do this. It's good practice for you."

No one else seemed to get her tone of voice, but Jim understood immediately and his eyes flashed warningly. He pressed it even more firmly into her hands, even stepping back so that she had to take it, his obstinate facial expression now matching hers.

"No Mac, this is meant to be you. You're the EP. Any questions about the rundown ask me now, 'cause tech checks are done."

She looked at him almost pleadingly, but he just shook his head firmly again, not budging. Accepting the inevitable, she laid the objects down on the work station and slipped her jacket and scarf off. Everyone was looking at her and she had finally noticed.

"I'm sorry about today guys, really. Forgive me. Now, everyone's good to go, right?" There were a few concerned looks that remained, but everyone nodded at the authority that had started to return to her voice. "Good. Just me, then."

She quickly flicked through Jim's notes; lip caught in her teeth as she sped-read the papers. She looked up when she had finished and Jim looked questioningly at her. She nodded to say she was fine with it, and the two of them walked to their usual spot.

"Where were you?" he asked in a low voice into her ear. She just stared at the image of Will on the screen for a moment before she replied.

"Sitting in Central Park and Starbucks." Her voice was dry and she shot another fake smile at him, deciding to ignore his alarmed look. Jim opened his mouth to say something back but Herb called the thirty second warning and Will's voice sounded in her ear.

"We good to go through there, Jim?"

She had to unstick her throat as Jim continued to stare worriedly at her. "Everything's ready here, Will."

On the large screens in front of her, the relieved, happy look on his face was blatantly obvious for everyone to see multiple times. She could see him open his mouth, and then close it again before finally speaking.

"Good to have you back, Kenz."

She wanted to cry again – she had been doing a bit of that today – but she didn't think this was the moment to correct him. And he used that nickname as well. Damn him. She was trying so hard to let go.

OOOOO

The broadcast went off without a hitch; but as soon as the credits started rolling Mackenzie had already ditched the headset and had her coat over her arm, half-way out the door.

Jim watched her go in utter confusion. Less than ten seconds later, Will skidded into the control room, his face falling as he looked around and did not find Mac. His eyes met Jim's, and his suspicions were confirmed as the younger man looked helplessly back at him.

He jerked around and back into the bullpen, but the lights in Mac's office were off and the few faces that were still looking over towards the exit and whispering to each other told him that she was gone already. He could feel his eyes burning.

Looking defiantly at the curious (and in some cases, accusatory) stares he was getting from staffers, he moved off towards his office and solitude.

Charlie didn't reappear until two minutes later.

He barrelled into the News Night bullpen and looked alarmingly around for Will, and not spotting him made a beeline for his office. Will was hanging his suit up on a hook. He spun around to see Charlie in the doorway and almost recoiled at the look on his face.

"Where the hell is Mackenzie?" It was almost a growl. Will had been about to ask him what was wrong, but that seemed rather futile now. "She's been missing all day from what I've heard – where the hell I she?"

Sure that he was in for a lengthy tirade, Will decided to play it calm for now. Hopefully the staffers would disappear before Charlie got really pissed off.

"Until about five minutes ago, she was here." He said stonily. "Though if you want to know where she was before then, I'd try Jim or Maggie."

"She came back?" Charlie asked, suspiciously.

"Yes, Charlie, she came back." Will replied exasperatedly, his brain close to that implosion point that Jim had been going on about. "Did you really think she wouldn't?"

"Well since she handed me her resignation today, I had my doubts, yeah." The older man fired back, his eyes flashing again. Will's mouth fell open, frozen in a half crouch position as he'd been about to sit down.

"She resigned?"

"Yeah!" Charlie snapped, stalking forward and throwing himself into the chair that Jim had occupied a few hours before. "She seems to think she's hurting you by being here, but from where I'm standing, I'd say it's the other way around."

Once again, Will's eyes were burning. He couldn't quite figure out how it had all gone wrong from Saturday to here. He was fairly sure that kissing her had something to do with it. Kissing her when she'd asked him not to. Right. Yeah. Fuck.

He was jabbering, starting loads of sentences with "I – " and then not knowing where to go next.

Charlie leaned his elbows on the desk, drawing himself up to his full height and fixed Will with a heavy glare, forcing him to look at him.

"Mac told me a bit of what went on during the storm. Not details thank you, but enough for me to understand that she is exceedingly confused about what you want." Now Charlie looked like he was at a loss for words. "I mean – I don't even know what to say to you anymore Will, I don't know how you fix this. My only advice is: make sure you do. You'd be an absolute idiot to let her walk out that door again. And in two weeks – or maybe sooner at this rate – that's exactly what she's going to do."

Will was still feeling stunned, and knew he was probably looking like a bit of an idiot to Charlie right now. He could feel that his mouth was hanging open slightly.

"I – Charlie I didn't mean for it to…I really didn't. I just want to be with her again."

He could see that the last bit confused Charlie, but the man just sighed, frustrated. "Well then, you need to tell her that."

"I did!" Will protested, and Charlie looked back at him incredulously.

"Do you know what I feel like right now? Like one of those kids in kindergarten who has to go between two of their friends because one broke the other one's toy. Or in other words, has to be the go-between for a completely ridiculous argument. Clearly you didn't tell her, because she seems to think you don't."

"No." Will said quietly, pinching his nose, "She knows I do, but that isn't the problem. The problem is that she thinks I can't forgive her."

Again, Charlie was clearly running to catch up. "Right…and can you?"

"Not yet." Charlie looked incredulous again, "Not yet – but I'm working on it."

"Working on it?" He asked curiously.

"I'm seeing a therapist." The older man's expression turned to one of surprise, and maybe even a little but impressed at the lengths he was going to. "And it's helping – really. Even in a few days, its helping."

"Does Mackenzie know this?" Charlie's voice had gone from angry to softer, a lot more like his old, comforting, mediator self – and Will was more than grateful.

"She hasn't really given me the chance to. But that isn't all." He was wondering whether he should tell Charlie what he'd been doing all afternoon or not. Charlie looked at him expectantly, and he instantly knew that he would feel better if he told someone about this. His next appointment with Habib wasn't until next week, and if there was one thing he'd learned so far it was not to keep everything bottled up to yourself. "Wade."

"I have absolutely no doubt that if you told Mac you were serious about getting back together then Wade would gone within the hour. He's a smarmy, puss-ass slime ball."

"Yeah, but that's not all."

* * *

_**And now KatyKat70, I'm definitely going to go do my coursework. Pinky promise.**_


	14. Revelations and Resolutions

_**In the Bleak Midwinter Ch. 11**_

_**Revelations and Resolutions.**_

_**Okay, THIS is the last one for a good few days I'm afraid, and it's posted a day early especially for KatyKat70, who has had a very long day :)**_

_**I've warped the timeline a little where Wade is concerned, but I'm sure no one cares.**_

* * *

Mackenzie had been surprised to say the least when Jim and Charlie had turned up at her apartment just before eleven the next evening and needled her into coming to the office New Year party. Reluctant didn't cover it for her; whilst Wade on the other hand, had managed to take in both Jim and Charlie's enthusiasm and double it. She hadn't really had a hope of getting out of it.

Had it not been for Wade making small talk in the cab ride over, it would have been incredibly awkward. Mackenzie was all but silent, and was staring vacantly down at where Wade had his hand clasped around hers to avoid the looks Jim was shooting at her through the mirror.

After handing in her resignation the day before, she felt strangely like she shouldn't belong at News Night anymore; and yet as her staffers all greeted her cheerfully – even relieved – she felt like she just fitted. Like they were all some giant jigsaw and without her there, there was a whole in the board. Mind you, you could send off to the jigsaw-makers and ask for replacement parts, couldn't you? An extreme measure, but sometimes that was what was needed.

To her relief, she couldn't see Will anywhere. Wade was chirping at her every few seconds about pitching his story on the District Attorneys being financially outmatched by millions, and he didn't seem to be taking no for answer.

After forty minutes of it, she decided she couldn't take it anymore, and excused herself saying she wanted a top up and that as the EP she needed to mingle. She did neither. She dodged everybody and headed out to the terrace which was mercifully deserted – very probably because it was well into the single figures Fahrenheit. But to her it was peaceful.

Inside she felt pressured, and like she was a traitor. All these happy, loyal people whom she adored were gathered around her, glad to have her back there; yet little did they know that she had already chosen to leave and hadn't told them. She felt like she was living a lie, almost.

It only took ten minutes for what felt like the beginnings of frost bite to settle in.

Back inside, she grabbed herself another glass of champagne and looked around for Wade, and then froze. Shit. Where was he?

She spotted Don chatting with Maggie and Sloan a few feet away and smacked a smile on her face as she dashed over to them.

"Don, have you seen Wade?"

"Yeah, he went into Will's office about five minutes ago."

Mac was sure that the sudden mix of horror and terror that she felt on her face was what was causing Don to look slightly alarmed, but she didn't really have time to care. Shouting a quick "thanks!" over her shoulder to Don, she sped off as calmly as she could (she didn't want to draw any more attention to herself) towards Will's office.

Not bothering to knock, she pushed open the door to find Will reclining in his desk chair, a cigarette in one hand and a focussed look on his face as he stared at Wade. As soon as she's in the room however, his gaze shifts immediately onto her, and as he looks her up and down Mac felt like she was on fire, or maybe just under a really, really bright spotlight.

"Hey honey, I was just telling Will about the story. You looked like you were busy; but if you'll both excuse me, I'm just going to nip out and get another glass of wine – it's nearly midnight!"

Smiling, he passed Mac on his way to the door, pressing a swift kiss on her cheek as he went; and as she heard the door swing shut again, Mac felt herself go crimson. That didn't stop her meeting Will's gaze, however. He looked very smart in a crisply pressed tux (she assumed he'd been somewhere else before coming here). He was staring back at her intensely, and she felt incredibly awkward. Should she tell him?

"You look amazing."

It came completely out of the blue – like a gust of wind physically knocking the sense out of her. She had no idea what to say.

Will could see that she looked shocked, and confused; maybe even a little hurt. She moved to leave, and he inwardly cursed himself for not starting with something easier…but he'd just said the first thing into his head. Just as she appeared to be leaving, though, she turned back to face him, and a small facet of hope came back to life inside him.

"Look I'm sorry, Will. I didn't mean to bring him here – Charlie practically dragged me." She turned to leave again, and he managed to force himself to speak before she did.

"I know, I asked him to." She froze at the door, before once more turning around to face him. This time the confusion etched on her face remained, but the shock and hurt was replaced by what he recognised as the beginning stages of a Mackenzie McHale rage.

"Will, what the hell –"

"You can't leave Mac." They're staring at each other again, as though each was daring the other to look away and give in. He gets up and moves around the desk to her, getting as close as he dares. "You are this show. And we can't do this without you. I can't do this without you."

So he knew.

"I – I don't even know what to say to that. This – this isn't working. You and me –"

"Mac, if I confused you at the weekend, I am truly sorry. Please know that and forgive me any distress that I caused you. A lot had been said and I didn't know how to deal with it.

"I was late the next day because after you left, I replied to my therapist's appointment for the first time in nearly four years, because I suddenly realised that I needed to sort myself out. I needed to sort us out, because…" He broke off what he was saying and nervously reached out to take one of her hands in his, looking pleadingly at her. "…because of you – of how I feel about you. I know I have issues, and I want to sort them out –"

He was prevented from going any further in his confession by the figure of Wade pushing against the glass door with his shoulder, champagne in one hand, blackberry in the other.

"Jeez there are a lot of journalists out there. This place is crawling with them."

"Well, we are a news corporation." Will said with a tight smile.

Mackenzie looked nervously between them, now unsure about what Will would do; how civilised he was going to end up being. She was still trying to process what he had just told her. Was he serious? He had _looked_ damn serious. So what the hell had the last week been all about? Only at the weekend – four days ago! – he had told her that he didn't think he could forgive her. He'd really changed his mind in four days?

She had lost the thread of what the men were talking about. All she had made out just then were the words 'Nina Howard'.

"The gossip columnist?" Mackenzie asked, confused.

"Yeah, she's out in the office." Wade told her. "She nailed one of my bosses to the cross a couple of months back, so she recognised me. Bitch. Said she was checking out another story about one of our press secretaries, now. According to her – so there's exactly no proof whatsoever – the guy's been leaking stuff to the tabloids because he's looking for a transfer and more pay."

"What's she even doing here? Who on Earth would invite Nina Howard?"

"Oh she's a slippery one. She probably just snuck in and is trying to use you guys for coverage. You're 'media elite' thing is pretty much a massive target for a bitchy magazine. You should warn the staff, sweetie, in case they don't know that's she's Nina Howard, TMI's finest." Will's eyes narrowed at this last part.

"Well, actually it's interesting that you mention that, because I heard a similar story this week. It was about this guy who wants to run for congress, but with too many minors on his record from college and a pretty shabby list of cases as a litigator, he had nothing to make him noticeable to the people that mattered. A pretty rubbish resumé, you might say…if he wanted to run for office, anyway.

"So he meets this woman. She works in media and she's beautiful, intelligent, funny, social gold dust, and yet tragically vulnerable. Or, in this case, easily open to being taken advantage of; she's had her heart broken, but she's idealistic and optimistic to the point of crazy, and so he asks her out. Three months later he appears on her show for the first time. By the next month he practically has a weekly slot. Seems like he's 'using her for coverage', as you put it."

He finally managed to stop speaking; a quiet fury emanating from him, his eyes blazing into those of a wide-eyed, shocked looking Wade. Subconsciously, during his speech he had moved slightly in front of Mackenzie.

There was silence in the office, yet the noise of the party eerily pounded against the glass, although it never seemed to seep through into their little bubble.

"Wade?"

The two men were knocked out of their staring contest by the small, fractured voice that came from behind Will's shoulder.

It made Will freeze up. The anger that had been boiling through him suddenly felt like ice cold water trickling through his veins. He thought his heart might have physically sunk an inch or two.

He slowly turned to see her face, also leaving room for Mac to have a clear view of Wade. His heart broke as he saw her ashen, pale face with those brilliant but now watery hazel eyes. He twitched as if to reach out to her, but she moved forwards before he could, looking questioningly at her boyfriend, arms crossed over her chest defensively.

"You're running for congress?" Wade just looked at her gormlessly, his blue eyes wide as saucepans. "Since when?"

Wade still hadn't said anything a moment later and Will decided to step in.

"He's been having meetings with the DCCC since Thanksgiving." He spoke gently, desperate not to upset her any more than she already was – although he admittedly wasn't feeling too optimistic about his chances.

She looked from Wade to him, and he got a slight shiver as his brain annoyingly decided that this was a good moment to once again notice how beautiful she looked.

She looked between them, apparently trying to get Will to take back what he had said. When he didn't, she turned more sharply back to Wade and Will could see the anger beginning to take over the hurt.

"Come on, say something! If you're not going to be man enough to deny it, you might at least try and redeem yourself by admitting it." He looked a little scared as she stepped into his personal space. "Wade!"

It wasn't quite a shout, as her voice cracked half way through; but it also sounded like a question. He finally spluttered out a response,

"Mackenzie, I –" But this was all he managed. Mackenzie was standing slightly in front of him, so Will could not see her face any longer.

"Get out!"

Will could see that she had once hand covering her face, and the other grabbed the door handle and held it open for him. Wade twitched for a second before he opened his mouth to speak again, looked at both of them in turn, before jerkily starting out the door.

Mac let the door fall closed behind the departing attorney, swaying slightly at the change in balance as she let go. Will was feeling scared again: she wasn't moving, she wasn't making a sound, and he still couldn't see her face.

"Mac?" It was barely more than a whisper, and he at last reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. "Mackenzie?"

She spun around so fast that it was almost dizzying. Her blazing, red eyes finally met his again, tears now running down her face. "How long have you known about this?"

He blanched. Shit. He'd been so caught up in exposing Wade's deception that he hadn't realised what the whole thing would look like. He'd spent all of the previous afternoon and half of today digging around in Wade's life; but he knew that there was no way that Mac was going to listen to him right now, so he did the only thing he could think of and pulled her to him. She tried to shrug him off but he stepped into her and wrapped his arms around her, gently pressing her head into his shoulder.

She finally started crying earnestly, her small body shaking against his. He tightened his arms around her, pressing his own face into her hair and rubbing soothing circles into her back.

As her sobs subsided and she finally stilled in his arms, and he felt her hands clasp onto his lapels as she turned her head into his neck, he decided it was safe to speak.

"Maggie came to me yesterday and said that she had heard of one of Wade's friends' talking about his plans to run, and about the publicity he was getting from News Night." He spoke softly into her ear, his hands still massaging her back. "She didn't want to tell you in case it wasn't true, so she asked me to do some digging. She cares a lot about you. We all do."

He felt like he had done something wrong. He was suddenly unsure of his footing here. His other hand moved into her hair, running through the soft strands spilling onto her shoulders. She sniffed and he pulled back slightly, hand still in her hair. Resting his forehead against hers, he tried to catch her eye, but she couldn't look at him. He didn't know what else to say. Instead, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, tucking a hair behind her ear which he'd displaced moments before.

"I'm never going to make up for this." For a second he thought he must have misheard her. She still wasn't looking at him, instead staring at a button on his shirt. He was taken-aback to say the least.

"Mackenzie! Hey, listen to me! Wade is the one in the wrong here! What he's been doing is despicable and disgusting, and he would never deserve you even if he spent the next century trying to make it up to you."

She still wasn't looking up at him and he caught another tear from falling off her face, before tilting his chin up with his index finger. She looked so young and vulnerable and hurt that he felt as though he never wanted to let her go again.

"Yeah, but I'm basically getting my comeuppance, right?" She smiled sadly before her lip started to wobble again.

"No." He shook his head firmly, framing her face with his hands and staring into her eyes so hard just to make sure that she didn't miss what he was saying. "You – you are –"

He couldn't find the words. Nothing seemed to fit or be good enough…his brain just wasn't working. She was now finally looking at him, almost desperately at the hint of absolution. He needed to pull it together for her.

"You are far too rare for anyone with half a brain to want to let you go. Wade Campbell might be thick enough to walk away, and maybe I was missing half a brain when I let you walk out the door four years ago, but you mean the world to me; and when I said that I was trying to sort myself out, I meant it." As if on cue, the chimes of the bells from the TV screens in the bullpen began to count down to 2011. "I want you. I want us; and I would love it if we could start the New Year on blank page – because I think we both deserve this. Don't you?"

She blinked disbelievingly at him, before pressing herself back into him, her arms wrapping so tightly around him that he was in danger of losing blood circulation. Her face curled into his neck and he laughed slightly, taking this as a good sign. He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head.

It reached the tenth chime, and Will once more pushed her gently back from him. It chimed twelve and they could hear the fireworks go off, signaling a new beginning.

"A Happy New Year?" A timid smile curled at her lips, mirroring his own.

"That'd be nice." She replied softly.

"Sounds like a good New Years' resolution to me." She finally let out a nervous laugh and her eyes sparkled in a way he'd missed since they'd been apart. "Happy New Year, Mackenzie."

He searched her eyes for a second and found no resistance. His heart jumped into his throat and his forehead once more rested on hers as his head dipped and his lips found hers.

The arms wrapped around his waist moved up his chest to wrap around his neck as Will pulled her flush against him, determined to never let her slip away again.

* * *

_**Because Will SHOULD have kissed Mac at midnight! What a wasted opportunity, Aaron. **_

_**And it's not over… One chapter to go.**_


End file.
